


Road to Recovery

by AWriting



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Fluff, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut, they hug each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWriting/pseuds/AWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has trouble sleeping. Clint has trouble sleeping and a habit of collecting deadly assassins. They both like movies, and it turns out, each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Movie Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely not Age of Ultron compliant. Basically just two adorable, traumatized cuties falling in love.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> This not beta'd and only minimally edited by me so sorry for any mistakes.  
> Third chapter is up!

Bucky's first week in the tower was...volatile. At least in his own mind. He was on edge, restless. Couldn't sleep without being inundated by memories he didn't want. Memories of the terrible things he had done. Most of his time was spent in the training rooms punching anything and everything he could, though he refused to spar with anyone. He didn't trust himself that much. The rest of his time was spent wandering. The tower was pretty huge, but it still only took him a few days to memorize the whole thing. He knew all the access points, knew the security shifts, and could've told anyone interested how to get in and out without being noticed.

The people were okay. He just had to get used to not regarding everybody and every movement and every second look as a threat. Steve's heart was in the right place, but Bucky couldn't help feeling a little smothered by all the attention. Tony just eyed him warily whenever they were in the same room and occasionally offered to make him a new, less Soviet Union-y arm. Bruce was nice enough. Bucky liked that he could sit in the same room with the man and not be expected to talk. Bruce's lab was a bit of a safe haven when Steve was nagging. Though, eventually the silence got to be too much as well. Except when Tony was there. Bucky had a lot of respect for Pepper, putting up with that guy like she did. Also, she was kind of just motherly in a nice way. Concerned, but not overly so like a certain best friend. He liked Pepper. He was wary of Natasha at the best of times. She was lethal and he knew it. Those were the only people he interacted with that first week. The god guy, Thor, and the one they called Hawkeye were gone on missions or were on other planets or something. Bucky didn't pay that much attention.

One night Bucky was wandering the halls aimlessly again. He had fallen asleep for a few hours only to wake up covered in sweat and fluff after having taken a knife to his bed in his sleep. He didn't even know where he had found the knife. Didn't matter though, he definitely wasn't getting anymore sleep that night.

He rounded a corner and was surprised to see a light shining out of the door that led to the communal kitchen and rec room. Bucky hadn't spent much time in there, but Steve told him that the team sometimes had movie nights or drinking nights or whatever when they were all in town.

He hadn't really planned on interacting with anyone that night, but his curiosity got the better of him, the light drawing him towards it inexplicably. He’d just assumed he was the only one who would be awake at this hour.

He stopped in the doorway to the large kitchen and surveyed the room. Fully, possibly overly, stocked modern style kitchen. Sleek. Silver and red. Huge coffee machine to one side that Bucky wouldn't even begin to know how to operate. Two fridges, but if any of the tower's other residents had an appetite to match Steve's, that wasn't that surprising. Sitting on one of the bar stools was a man. Short, cropped blonde hair. Thick arms and shoulders. Large hands with nimble looking fingers. About Bucky's height from what he could tell with the man sitting down. He had a bruise high on his left cheek. Two high tech-looking hearing aids sat on the counter next to his elbow. He was eating a brightly colored cereal and watching Bucky curiously.

This must be Hawkeye, Bucky thought. He certainly didn't look like a god, at least. Would a god need hearing aids?

Slowly, the man reached for his hearing aids and fixed them into his ears, pressing something on the cell phone that was also sitting there. He raised an eyebrow and took another bite of cereal, still watching Bucky closely. Bucky let his eyes swing around the room again to avoid the man's gaze.

"Hi," he said after a minute. Presumably after he realized that Bucky wasn't going to say anything. His voice was nice. Even that one syllable sounded like it was on the edge of a laugh. Like he was about to tell the punchline to a joke. Different than everyone else Bucky had met here. Very different from his own. "You must be Barnes. I'm Clint."

Bucky nodded once and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This man had clearly been told about him and it probably wasn't good things. He shouldn't have even come in here.

Just as he was about to turn around and leave, Clint said, "I was going to watch a movie, if you want to join me."

Bucky paused and let his gaze slide back to Clint's, the light brown eyes—like a smooth whiskey, Bucky thought—staring back at him. When Clint didn't flinch or look away, he asked, "At 3am?"

Clint grinned brightly and shrugged. "Can't sleep, so why not?"

This time Bucky held his eyes as Clint studied him. The guy wasn't a threat, not to Bucky, anyway. But his nonchalance at Bucky's presence was still surprising. Bucky was used to being feared, or, at the very least, watched cautiously. That wasn't the way Clint watched him. His face was open, inviting, with only the remnants of something haunted in his eyes and in the dark purple bags under them. The little crinkles around his eyes, however, were proof that the grin he had given Bucky wasn't a rare occurrence. But what really surprised him was that instead of sizing Bucky up as an enemy or competitor, he seemed to be sizing Bucky up as a friend, an ally. Bucky wasn't sure what he had done to deserve that.

"Why not," Bucky finally agreed and took a few hesitant steps into the room.

"What are you thinking?" Clint asked as he cleared his bowl and put the cereal away. "I'm thinking a nice, cheesy rom-com. Definitely not any action movies after that shitty mission. Oh, wait. You're, like, not from this century right? You need to get caught up. Have you seen The Hangover yet? It's so great. But... On the second thought, maybe we should ease you into that one. Comedy's changed a lot since...who would've been big in your time? Chaplin? Definitely a far cry from The Great Dictator, though I do love that movie. So yeah, we'll start with something milder..."

During this speech, Clint had finished up in the kitchen. When he had passed by Bucky, his shoulder came very close to brushing Bucky’s, and the Winter Soldier instincts kicked in. He flinched away and crouched slightly, his hands fisting tightly, ready to lash out whenever needed. Clint had to have noticed, but he pretended nothing happened and moved into the main part of the rec room where a large TV hovered on the wall. Bucky trailed behind him reluctantly, forcing his instincts down.

This guy could sure talk. But it wasn't the annoying snark and condescension that Tony was constantly spouting. And it wasn't the mother hen kind of constant questioning he got from Steve and Sam. He was just talking for the hell of it, more like thinking out loud, and he clearly didn't expect an answer, so Bucky didn't really mind. Also, Clint had a nice voice. That helped.

"Ah ha!" Clint suddenly said from the couch where he was pushing buttons on the remote and examining the movies Tony had saved on the TV. He leaned back against the couch. "This one's perfect."

He didn't look back at Bucky. Didn't put him under any obligation to join him on the couch. Just settled down on the far side and lifted his feet out in front of him to rest on the coffee table.

Bucky didn't move immediately. He kept waiting for something to happen. Waiting for Clint to say something about his past or his arm or whatever. It didn't make sense that Clint just ignored all of that. It had to be on his mind. No one could go for long without bringing it up. And Bucky couldn't really blame them.

But he didn't. Clint didn't even acknowledge his presence once the movie started. As if having his back turned to a guy like Bucky wasn't the most dangerous thing you could do. Was it naïveté? Or trust? Judging from what Steve had told him about this guy's skill, he didn't really think it was the former.

Finally, he gave up. The guy was a puzzle. And if he had to admit it, the movie looked kind of interesting based on what had happened so far. Slowly, he moved around the couch and sat down.

He saw in his peripheral the corner of Clint's mouth twitch up in a smile as he settled about as far away from Clint as he could get on the large couch.

They finished that movie and started another. Clint would randomly make jokes or explain a reference that he thought Bucky might not understand. Bucky never responded, but that didn't seem to bother him. Before he knew it, the sun was coming up and it was time for him to meet Steve for a run.

And so began the tradition of Bucky and Clint watching movies every night while everyone else was sleeping. Clint made a list of movies he decided that Bucky absolutely had to see and they started to work their way through it chronologically.

As a few weeks passed, Bucky became more and more comfortable with Clint. He was the one person in the tower who seemed to understand him, even if they were total opposites. He could tell Clint was dealing with some things from his past too, and misery does love company.

He remained hyper aware of the man though, even as his suspicions melted away. Every shake of Clint’s shoulders when he laughed, every time his head fell against the cushions in exhaustion, every shift of his body. Bucky wasn't even sure what happened in half the movies they watched because of how often his attention was pulled to Clint. It was strange, but he also didn't really mind it.

As Bucky relaxed, he also noticed that every few nights Clint would move a bit closer to him on the couch. At first it was just stretching his legs out on the couch between them. Progressively laying his body flatter so there was less and less distance. Then one night, he sat in the middle of the couch, but more to his side then Bucky's. Bucky barely even noticed as he began shifting closer to him over the next few nights until he was sitting right next to him. After about a week of that, Bucky found he had stopped tensing up whenever Clint sat down. His metal hand didn't fist at his closeness. Bucky barely even let Steve sit this close to him.

And then when, after a few more nights of that, Clint made a joke and nudged his arm lightly without even turning to look at him, Bucky was surprised at how easy it was to turn off the alarms in his mind. That's when Bucky really clicked to what Clint had been doing. He had been slowly invading Bucky's space, building up trust over almost a month’s worth of nights, taking small steps at a time, and gauging his reactions. Bucky had to admit, Steve had been right about Clint, he was good.

Over another couple of weeks, Bucky became more aware of his methods. Now that he had gotten Bucky comfortable with his presence, he started on small touches, like the nudge on the shoulder, a few playful punches, or letting their hands touch when he handed Bucky something. Then it was pats on the back or leaning closer when he was going to say something so that their arms touched until he moved back.

And Bucky found that he didn't mind. Sure, the Winter Soldier reactions were something he had to deal with, but he, Bucky, the part of him he had managed to salvage from the Soldier, liked it when Clint touched him. There was nothing malicious in his intentions, Bucky could sense that. He was trying to help make Bucky comfortable, help him get used to normal interactions, and Bucky deeply appreciated the way he had gone about it. He never pressured Bucky the way he sometimes felt pressured to accept Steve's touches and hugs. The gradual progression felt natural.

The funny thing was that no one else had any idea. No one else ever joined them in their movie watching and they barely interacted during the day. Sometimes Bucky would watch Clint with his bow and arrow in the shooting range Tony had built for training. And when Steve dragged him to the team building exercises that Darcy and Sam forced on all of them. But when they watched movies, it was just them and it was the most relaxed Bucky had been in decades.

One night, Clint mentioned making popcorn and then right before he got up, he tapped two fingers to the inside of Bucky's wrist twice. Clint didn't acknowledge it as anything strange so Bucky didn't either. But it felt different than the other touches. After that, he kept doing it. Not constantly, just every once in a while in the middle of saying something or right before they parted as the sun came up. Bucky watched to see if Clint did it with anyone else. Maybe it was team thing. But he never did.

Almost two months passed of movie nights with Clint. Sometimes Bucky would show up in the rec room and Clint would already be there, searching for a good movie. Sometimes Bucky would get there first and would sit on the couch and wait silently until Clint dragged himself in, wiping sleep out of his eyes. Those were the nights where Bucky could see how haunted Clint really was. He didn't have time to cover it up with jokes and smiles like he did when he beat Bucky there.

Bucky considered asking Steve what had happened to Clint. Why Clint couldn't sleep at night. But that would mean he would have to admit to interacting with Clint more than Steve thought he did and their movie nights felt like a sacred thing. He couldn't let anyone invade them. Also, he didn't want to pry into Clint's life that way. Not after he had done so much to make Bucky feel comfortable.

Nights when Clint was on missions were the worst. Bucky would wake up from one of his many reoccurring nightmares and feel utterly lost. Like he had that first week. Nowhere to go. The only person he wanted to see on those nights was Clint, but he couldn't. Sometimes he would go sit in the rec room but that was almost worse. Knowing Clint wasn't coming to join him. Those hours felt the longest.

When Bucky woke up one night from one of the worst nightmares he had had in months, his screams muffled by his pillow and his whole body convulsing, he practically ran to the rec room. Only to remember once he was there that Clint, Steve, and Natasha were on a mission and weren't supposed to be back until the next morning. His chest was heaving uncontrollably and he covered his face with his hands, screaming into them before grabbing at his hair that he had cut short not long after moving into the tower, pacing aimlessly around the room. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute and he had no idea how to stop it.

"Hey! We got back early..." Suddenly came from the doorway and Bucky whipped his head around to see Clint walking into the rec room still in full tactical gear minus his bow and arrow. He must've seen the wild look in Bucky's eye and the way Bucky's whole body tensed and shook because he paused halfway through taking off his outer body armor and asked, "You alright, Buck?"

Bucky just shook his head in an attempt to clear it and pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes to push back the panic attack that had been growing.

"Hey," Clint was suddenly next to him, prying his hands away from his face and holding them, palm up. He met Bucky's frantic eyes with his own sure, calm ones, tapped two fingers to the inside of Bucky's wrist twice and said, "you're safe here. We're okay."

Bucky's hands latched onto Clint's wrists and held his gaze as his breathing came back under control. Trying to convince himself that Clint really was there. After a few moments, some of the tension drained from his shoulders and he loosened his grip on Clint's wrists.

"You're supposed to be on a mission," Bucky choked out. He didn't understand how Clint was there. Maybe he was dreaming.

"Bad intel. The place was abandoned so it didn't take as long as we thought." Clint was still watching him carefully, concern etched into the lines of his face.

Bucky nodded and swallowed thickly, feeling like he had just run a couple dozen marathons without any super soldier serum.

Slowly, giving Bucky time to react, Clint disentangled their hands and slid his up Bucky's arms until he could slip them around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him into his arms. Bucky went willingly, finding that he was craving the touch, the intimacy. He wrapped his arms around Clint's waist, clutching at the back of the shirt he had been wearing under his body armor that he had at some point finished taking off. He buried his face in Clint's neck, breathing in the scent he hadn't realized he had become so familiar with and slowly relaxed. Focusing on the feeling of one of Clint's hands rubbing his shoulder and the other running through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, Bucky matched his breathing to Clint's as he whispered reassurances in Bucky's ear.

After a few minutes, he realized he was completely exhausted. He didn't want to sleep again because he didn't want to dream again, but he could barely hold himself upright. Clint led him over to the couch and pulled him down on it so he was leaning into Clint's chest. He only took a few more deep breaths before he was falling asleep to Clint's voice and the feeling of Clint's fingers tapping against the inside of his wrist.  
  


He woke to light streaming in through the almost floor to ceiling windows. His head was resting on Clint's hard chest and he felt it move steadily up and down with each breath the other man took. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light and slowly sat up, disentangling himself from Clint's arms. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept that well.

His movement caused Clint to stir and his eyes slowly opened, meeting Bucky's with a slight smile.

"Morning," Clint said groggily, rubbing his eyes and moving to sit up himself. Bucky watched as the muscles in his stomach tensed under the tight T-shirt and was struck with the realization that this man must be seriously deadly when he wanted to be.

When he met Clint's eyes again, the other man said, "You okay?"

Instead of responding, Bucky reached out and tapped two fingers to the inside of Clint's wrist twice.

Clint smiled and ran a hand through Bucky's short hair fondly. "Good," he said before moving to climb off the couch. He left Bucky sitting there and after a few minutes, Bucky smelled coffee coming from the kitchen area. He told himself the coffee was why he eventually got up and walked over there, but if he was being honest, he knew it was Clint.

"Thanks," Bucky rasped, his voice surprisingly hoarse. He cleared his throat and studied his hands, finding it hard to meet Clint's eyes. "...for last night."

Clint slid a cup of coffee in front of him, and said, "We all have nightmares, Bucky."

They finished their coffee in comfortable silence and Clint had a couple bowls of that super sugary, brightly colored cereal he loved. He took out his hearing aids, too, and rubbed at his ears. They were the high tech ones that he only wore on missions. The ones he had been wearing the first night they met. Stark had designed them for him, but he said they were uncomfortable and wore a less fancy set when he wasn't saving the world.

Bucky wasn't really sure how much time had passed when Clint tapped his fingers to Bucky's wrist and pointed at the clock. "You have to meet Steve, don't you?"

He did. They went for a run at the same time every morning. But he found himself more reluctant to go than ever. He felt relaxed and he wasn't sure that was going to continue once he left.

Clint was watching him as he stared at the clock. When he turned, Clint smiled and tapped his wrist again. "We're okay."

He nodded and rubbed his eyes, slowly climbing off the stool. He knew that if he didn't show up, Steve would come looking for him and then maybe he would have to explain. About the nightmare. About the movie nights. About Clint.

He wasn't sure he understood it enough to explain it to someone else.

So he left, though it felt like he was leaving something important behind.

That night, he didn't even try to sleep in his room at all so he beat Clint to the rec room. When the man stumbled in almost an hour later, he ran a hand through Bucky's hair as he passed and then fell onto the couch next to him. He was about to say something, but stopped when he saw a question clearly lingering in Bucky's eyes.

"What's up, Barnes?" He asked, shifting so he was laying back against the couch with his feet up.

"Why don't you sleep?" Bucky asked, blurting it out before he lost his nerve. It was a question he had been contemplating for a while. He really didn't know anything about Clint's past, but he had to wonder what made such a happy man so terrified of his own dreams.

Clint's body stiffened at the question and he looked away, studying his closed fists.

"You don't have to answer," Bucky hurriedly said. The last thing he wanted to do was push Clint away, but he had been hoping the other man might be willing to talk to him about it.

"No. No, it's okay," Clint said, tapping Bucky's wrist and then running his hand over his face. Smilingly wryly, he asked, "you want the long version or the short version?"

"Whatever you want to tell me." Bucky shifted on the couch so he was facing Clint, one of his legs pulled up and his metal arm resting on it.

Clint took a deep breath and started talking. He told him a little bit about the circus and the years he spent as a criminal. He told him about getting recruited to SHIELD. He told him about being sent to take out Natasha. But mostly he told him about a few short days he spent under the control of a god. Being trapped in his own mind and feeling like he was tearing himself apart. Watching like an outsider as his body killed innocent people and his fellow agents. Hearing about Coulson and knowing it was his fault.

Bucky regretted asking. He wanted to know, yes. But it wasn't worth making Clint relive it. He might as well have tortured the guy. And that was the last thing he wanted.  
Eventually, Clint seemed to run out of things to say. His hands were balled into fists and his eyes had a faraway look in them. Bucky touched Clint's arm tentatively. When he did, the other man seemed to remember he was there and turned his head to look at him. Clint tried and failed to smile, dropping his gaze again.

"I'm still working on it," he said quietly.

Bucky shifted on the couch again so he was sitting up next to Clint and wrapped his arms around the other man carefully. Clint moved into his arms willingly. Just like Bucky had when the roles were reversed the night before. He rubbed slowly at Clint's back, just like Clint had done for him, and watched as his shoulders slowly dropped as the tension eased out of them. After a few minutes, Clint's breathing evened out and Bucky realized the other man had fallen asleep. He smiled and rubbed his cheek against Clint's hair, settling back into the cushions of the couch a bit more. Clint curled into Bucky's chest and sighed, his mouth parting slightly.

Laying there with his arms wrapped around Clint's broad shoulders, Bucky let himself relax. He couldn't remember the last time touching someone had come so naturally. Probably the girls he used to chase before the war. Back before he had realized what a horrible place the world was. How many ways there were to hurt someone. Clint made the world feel smaller, simpler. Like the entire universe fit inside that room, on that couch. Bucky didn't need to think about how he was going to take down Hydra or how he was going to convince Steve that he was okay. Or how he was going to be okay. He could just be there.

He felt Clint's heart thumping under his real hand and closed his eyes, focusing on the slow, solid beats.  
  


He woke up again the next morning with the light burning through his eyelids. Clint was still tucked against his chest, but Bucky could tell he was awake.

"How'd you sleep?" Clint asked and Bucky could feel the vibration of the words from Clint's body.

He sighed contentedly. "Good. You?"

"Good," Clint responded quietly.

"I'm sorry," Bucky said slowly, touching Clint's shoulder gently. "For asking. I shouldn't’ve..."

"No." Clint sat up, stretching his back and popping his neck. "It was good. I know about some of your stuff from the files and from Steve. It's only fair that you know about me too."

Bucky didn't really agree, but he didn't want to argue it with him either. When he sat up, Clint must've seen the worry still on his face because he smiled and tapped his fingers to Bucky's wrist. "We're okay," he said, reaching up to run his hand through Bucky's hair. Then to his surprise, Clint leaned towards him and pressed his lips to Bucky's temple just for a second before standing up and asking, "Coffee?"

They went about their days as normal, but Bucky could still feel the place where Clint had kissed him. It was definitely not something he had been expecting and he wondered why Clint had done it. Was it a friendly thing? Or was it something more?  
If it was a friendly thing, that was cool. Bucky was fine with it. But if he was being honest, he would really be okay if it had been more too.

Bucky had always known he was attracted to men and women. Back in his time, he never would've acted on it because of...well, everything. But he had also been in the world long enough now to know that people didn't care so much anymore. You could love whoever you wanted and most people were fine with it.

And he knew he had been developing feelings for Clint. Pretty much since that first night, it had kind of been inevitable. But he really didn't know if Clint felt the same way. The last few nights gave him hope at least. Sleeping on the couch together had felt a bit more than friendly. But that wasn't really any guarantee. They had both needed the comfort and maybe that's all it was for Clint. But he really hoped it wasn't.

If Bucky was a bit more enthusiastic during his workouts that day, trying to distract himself and get his mind off it, no one said anything. He had started sparring with Steve a bit. He was getting better. Felt more at ease in his own skin. Fewer Winter Soldier episodes and he was able to fight them off quicker when they came. He knew that was because of Clint. He couldn't really imagine not having Clint in his life anymore.

When he walked into the kitchen that night, he still hadn't really come to any conclusions. He was terrified of scaring Clint off.

Clint was already there, wearing a pair of loose fitting jeans and a T-shirt that pulled tightly across his shoulders. His back was to Bucky, but he turned his head when Bucky walked in and smiled brightly. "I'm making hot chocolate. Want some?"

"Sure," Bucky said as he leaned against the counter and watched Clint work on the drinks. His whole body was screaming at him to reach out and touch the other man. He had come to rely on their touches. Even when they had been little, he had looked forward to them day to day. They were perhaps a bit less innocent now, for his part at least, than they had been early on, but he still craved them.

He didn't say anything while Clint finished up—Bucky noticed that Clint had already been making two cups when he walked in—and crossed his arms over his chest until Clint stood in front of him holding out a warm mug.

He took it slowly with his metal hand, the sensors just barely registering Clint's fingers brushing over his.

"You okay, Buck?" Clint asked before taking a drink from his own mug, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

Bucky watched as he lowered the mug and licked his lips. He looked down at the mug in his hands and then back at Clint before sighing and setting the mug down on the counter behind him. Then he reached over and plucked Clint's mug out of his hands and set it down next to his own.

Clint had a confused sort of smile on his face when Bucky looked up that made his heart stutter. He reached out slowly again and slipped his fingers through the empty belt loops in Clint's jeans and tugged lightly until Clint was standing directly in front of him.

He left some space between them. Gave Clint time to ask what the hell he was doing. But when he met Clint's eyes, there were no questions there. Only a couple of inches separated them and Bucky could feel each breath Clint took on his face. He thought he could probably be happy right there for the rest of his life. Just breathing Clint's air. The entire universe packed into the distance between them.

But then Clint slipped one arm around Bucky's waist and anchored it by gripping tightly to his shirt, and Bucky felt his heart race.

He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Clint's gently, chastely just for a second before pulling back.

Bucky took a deep breath and opened his eyes to see Clint smilingly at him. The other man lifted one hand and rubbed it against the stubble on Bucky's jaw and said, "Took you long enough."

Bucky huffed a laugh and leaned into the touch of Clint's hand for a moment before moving forward and claiming his lips again with a bit more urgency.

He pulled the other man closer, pressing their bodies against each other as he slid his tongue along the seam of Clint's lips. When they parted, he wasted no time dipping his tongue in. Clint tasted like hot chocolate and cinnamon and something spicy that Bucky couldn't name and couldn't get enough of. He moaned into the kiss when Clint's nails scraped down his spine.

Parting for air, Clint rested his forehead against Bucky's and laughed. Bucky smiled back and ran his metal thumb over Clint's lower lip. Reaching up, Clint grabbed the hand and kissed the palm before moving away and pulling on it.

"C’mon," he said, grabbing his mug. “Tonight's the night we introduce you to Lord of the Rings."

Bucky allowed himself to be pulled towards the couch, barely remembering to grab his own mug. He settled onto the couch while Clint grabbed the remote. Clint leaned back against the arm of the couch and tossed his legs up over Bucky's lap, grinning full force at him. Bucky leaned over and kissed him again, unable to resist that grin, before sitting back to watch the movie. His hand settled on Clint's thigh and he couldn’t help stealing glances at him every once in a while at first, but pretty soon he was enthralled with the movie.

When it was over, he turned to Clint. "There's a sequel?"

"It's a trilogy," he responded, tossing the remote onto the coffee table.

"Are we gonna watch the next one?"

Clint smiled at Bucky's eagerness but waved it off and sat up. "Tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?" Bucky challenged, raising an eyebrow as Clint got closer.

"Because," Clint said and then closed the last of the distance, kissing him hungrily.

All thoughts of another movie quickly fled as Bucky twisted his body to get a better angle. He wrapped one hand around the back of Clint's neck, playing with the hairs at the nape, and the other settled on Clint's waist as he gently pushed him so Clint was laying back again. He shifted quickly and freed his legs from under Clint's, so that he was hovering over the other man.

He felt like his whole body was going to burst as Clint pulled him closer. He hadn't experienced this kind of touching in such a long time. His handlers and doctors had only used touch as a fear tactic to keep him in line. Slaps and all out beatings to break him. Touching Clint, kissing Clint, was the closest he had ever felt to really being free of them.  
One of Clint's hands slipped under his shirt at his hip and he let out a low growl. He wanted more. Sitting up on his knees, he pulled his shirt over his head before pressing their bodies together again.

Suddenly, he felt Clint's warm fingers where skin met metal on his shoulder and gasped, jumping off of the other man and retreating to the other side of the couch. His real hand leapt up instinctively to cover the scars on his shoulder. He had forgotten about it for a second. Forgotten about the gross scaring and disfiguration. He hated it.

Clint's hand came to rest on his head and he dropped his eyes to his lap, unable to meet Clint's now that the other man had seen.

Slowly, Clint moved across his lap, straddling him loosely. "Hey," he said tapping two fingers to the inside of Bucky's metal wrist. "We all have scars. Look."

Clint pulled his own shirt over his head so that Bucky could see the reminders of many injuries from over the years. Some were small, some were large. There was a particularly nasty looking mass of scar tissue just above his collarbone on his left shoulder from a bullet wound that had healed badly. Bucky scanned Clint's torso quickly before his eyes settled on that wound and he slowly reached up with his flesh and blood hand to run his fingers over it gently.

Clint covered the hand with his own, carefully pulling it to his lips so he could kiss the knuckles. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips along the seam where flesh met metal. Bucky whimpered and pulled Clint closer, leaning his head into the other man's shoulder. Clint made his way up Bucky's neck, dropping wet kisses on the skin. He paused when he reached Bucky’s lips and tilted his head up so they were eye to eye. Clint shifted his hold on Bucky's real hand so that Bucky's fingers were pressed against his wrist and waited. Bucky took a few deep breaths, holding Clint's gaze as he got used to the idea that someone wasn't repulsed by his arm. Then slowly, he tapped his fingers to Clint's wrist twice.

Immediately, Clint's lips were on Bucky's and he suddenly felt like he couldn't get close enough. He let his hands roam over Clint's scarred and calloused skin, feeling safer and more secure with every touch.

Soon, Clint's lips moved on to explore his neck and collarbone, sucking and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. Bucky's hands slipped under Clint's thighs to pull him closer and Clint moaned as their hardening cocks brushed against each other.

Clint pulled away and stood up, quickly ridding himself of his own jeans before reaching for Bucky's sweatpants. He looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised, asking a silent question. Without a second thought, Bucky pushed his shoulders back into the couch and lifted his hips so Clint could slide the pants off. Then Clint was straddling him again, knees tight on his thighs as he circled his hips against Bucky's.

Pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, Bucky palmed Clint through his boxers. He swallowed the other man's moans until his hand was pushed away and Clint freed them both from of the constricting fabric. Taking them in hand, Clint set a steady pace mixed with desperate kisses. Bucky gripped Clint's thighs tight enough that he was sure it was going to leave bruises and groaned as he bit down lightly on Clint's collarbone.

Bucky came first. It had been seventy years, give him a break. He moaned out Clint's name along with a curse as he fell over the edge.

When he came down, he covered Clint's hand with his as the other man finished. His forehead rested on Bucky's shoulder and his hips rocked forward a few more times as he rode out the orgasm. When he lifted his head, he pressed quick, soft kisses against Bucky's lips for a minute before standing up.

Bucky watched him walk away until he disappeared behind the couch and then let his head fall back against the couch as he breathing evened out. After a minute, a damp paper towel was pressed to his stomach and he let Clint clean him up.

When he went to trash the towels, Bucky spread himself out on the couch, pulling a blanket off the back and settling it over himself. He closed his eyes, but after a minute, felt Clint standing over him. He grabbed Clint's hand and tapped his fingers to his wrist twice before pulling Clint down onto the couch and under the blanket with him. Chest to chest and legs tangled, they shared a few lazy kisses before drifting off to sleep.


	2. Not as Fragile as I Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra bases and flashbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter!  
> The next one will be up by the end of the week.  
> This one is from Bucky's POV still, but the next one will be from Clint's.  
> I'm pretty terrible at writing action sequences so...sorry. That's not really the point of the scene though.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The light shining in his eyes was blinding and someone was touching Bucky’s arm. His eyes opened but it was too bright and he didn't recognize the room. Someone was talking to him. He pushed them away roughly, but not very effectively in his groggy state. Whoever it was grabbed onto his arm again and he felt two fingers tap on the inside of his wrist twice.

His eyes snapped open.

Clint.

"Buck?" He finally heard as he began to make out a face in the brightness. "Bucky?"

He blinked a few times and grabbed the hand still holding his as everything finally came into focus. Clint was watching him worriedly from where he was crouched beside the couch. "Do you know who I am?"

Bucky must've looked really disoriented. Well, if he looked as disoriented as he felt, it was probably pretty bad.

"Clint," he responded and tapped his fingers to Clint's wrist.

Clint smiled and placed his hand gently on Bucky's cheek. "I didn't want to wake you but the sun's coming up and I really don't want to deal with the crap we'd get if someone caught us here."

Bucky grunted in agreement and sat up quickly, grabbing the sweats that Clint held in his hand. Throwing his shirt over his head, Bucky stood and looked around. The problem with living on top of a tower was that you could see the sun coming up over all the other buildings so it was really damn bright in the mornings. He had spent so many years in bunkers and cells that sometimes the sun still surprised him.

Suddenly Bucky remembered everything that had happened the night before. He had remembered in a kind of objective way before, but as he watched the sun, he really remembered. He remembered kissing Clint and it feeling so good he never wanted it to stop. He remembered holding Clint and running his hands over Clint's scars.

He turned back towards the man in question who was retrieving the empty hot chocolate mugs from the coffee table. Bucky latched onto Clint's shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him with overwhelming need. He wanted proof that it wasn't a dream. Clint chuckled when he pulled away and said, "Don't worry, Barnes. I'm not done with you yet."

Grabbing his hand, Clint led him out into the hallway after dropping the mugs in the sink and up to Clint's apartment. Once in the bedroom, Clint wasted no time kicking off his jeans and pulling his shirt back over his head before sliding into the bed. He raised his eyebrows and grinned when he saw Bucky still standing next to the bed. "You comin'?"

Bucky shed his own shirt and climbed in next to Clint who wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist. Sighing, Bucky let his head rest on Clint's shoulder as one of Clint's hands swept up and down his spine comfortingly. They had just begun to really settle into their new position when the lights in the room started to flash along with a low, pulsing alarm that Bucky recognized as the team being called. The lights, he realized, must be special to Clint's room for when he wasn't wearing his hearing aids.

Clint groaned in annoyance and said, "What's going on, JARVIS?"

"You and Sergeant Barnes are being requested in the debriefing room for a mission," the bodiless voice that still kind of creeped Bucky out replied.

"Me?" Bucky asked in surprise, sitting up.

"It's a Hydra base, sir. Your...expertise is needed."

Bucky had never gone on a mission with the team before. He wondered what was so special about this base. He jumped out of bed just as Clint did and said as he slipped his shirt back over his head, "I gotta get my gear from my room."

"Right," Clint responded, already slipping into his tactical gear. "I'll meet you upstairs."

Bucky started to leave the room but Clint suddenly grabbed his shirt, pulling him back, and kissed him softly but with purpose. He murmured, "Be careful today," and then released him.

Bucky nodded, a small smile playing on his lips at Clint's worry, and made his way up a level to the apartment he shared with Steve.

"Where've you been?" Called Steve, half dressed in his Captain America costume.

"Didn't know you were gonna need me," Bucky replied with a shrug before ducking into his room to grab his gear.

After changing quickly and picking the weapons he wanted, Bucky followed Steve upstairs to the room off of Tony's office used specifically for discussing missions. Why the avengers felt like they needed a whole room for that, Bucky didn't know, but it wasn't his tower.

Clint was already there when they arrived, speaking quietly to Natasha in the corner. His eyes met Bucky's briefly but they were quickly pulled away. Bucky pushed down the sudden need to be near him as he took a seat next to Steve at the large conference table.

Coulson was on a big screen when they walked in and when he saw them, he said, "Everyone's here so I'm going to have Dr. Simmons give you a quick rundown."

A young girl with a British accent and sweet face appeared on the screen then. "Right. So what you're looking for is most likely going to look like this."

She held up a tube with a clear liquid in it. "Well, it may be a different color," she quickly corrected. "But it will most likely be in a similar container. If the samples have already been packed away for transport, keep an eye out for a case that's being carefully guarded. It’ll be their main priority."

"How does she know all of this?" Bucky whispered to Steve.

"She was under cover working in Hydra's labs for a few months," Steve answered quickly. "Must've found something worth blowing her cover for."

That was when Bucky noticed the admiration in Steve's eyes as he watched the little lady on the screen. He had to fight back a grin because Captain America clearly had a crush on the scientist.

"You'll have to get there and assess the situation." Coulson was back on the screen. "There are prisoners inside the facility. Decide the best way to attack, get the prisoners, and get the vials."

Once they were on the quinjet, Bucky started to feel twitchy and restless. It had been months since he had been in a real fight and he was equal parts excited and worried. Every so often his eyes would linger on Clint who was in the front with Natasha. Once they made eye contact and Bucky felt his nerves settle only to ratchet back up after a few minutes. Somehow, Clint knew because the next time Bucky looked over at him, he tapped his fingers to his own wrist twice. An acknowledgment that both of them were there and they were okay. To anyone else it would've looked like he had an itch on his wrist, but just seeing the action made it a little easier for Bucky to breathe.

It didn't take long for them to arrive wherever it was exactly that they were going. And they hiked the last couple of miles up onto a ridge until they could see the base and assess the situation. Bucky took a look around, found the best vantage point, pulled out his sniper rifle, and used the scope to start calling out stats to Steve who ducked down next to him.

"Four guards, roof, west. Two more, roof, east. At least ten on the ground on the inner perimeter, a shitload running around on the ground," he said lowly, methodically, like they had done this a hundred times. 'Cause they had. A hundred years ago.

Steve moved back down to where everyone else was waiting to discuss strategy while Bucky stayed where he was to keep an eye on things, watch for any unusual movements, any indication that they might know that they were about to be attacked.

"Good eyes." Clint had laid himself out next to Bucky where Steve had just been.

Bucky flashed him a grin, not taking his eye away from the scope. "You've seen my skills in action, I'm still looking forward to seeing yours."

Clint forced his face into neutrality with a quick glance back at the rest of the team. "I seriously doubt I've seen all your skills, Barnes."

"Barton, Buck," Steve called to them as he moved back towards them. He laid out the plan for them quickly and both men grunted their acknowledgement.

They hung back on the ridge with Tony and Sam until the signal came that the others were in position. Lining up his first shot, Bucky took a calming breath and let the familiarity of the situation wash over him. He'd be lying if he said having Clint at his side didn't help.  
He took the shot and saw the man go down. Moments later the others came sweeping in from the woods at the ground level, Hulk and Thor smashing straight through the fencing and bringing down a couple of guards with it. Just as Falcon and Iron Man took off towards the roof, Bucky took out another roof guard.

He could practically hear the adrenaline humming through Clint as he bounced next to him, eager for his turn. Another guard went down just as Iron Man and Falcon got in range. Within seconds, they were all down and Bucky turned his rifle on the ground until Tony and Sam could get back for them. He took out a few people who had appeared with rifles at the windows facing them. Clint loosed a few arrows to bring down a truck trying to make its escape through the gate. Bucky hummed in appreciation at the impressive shots before bringing down someone approaching Natasha from behind.

Tony touched back down next to them just a few seconds before Sam did. Bucky packed up his rifle and stashed it while Sam got a running start with Clint.

"Clench up, Elsa," Tony's weirdly distorted voice said as he grabbed onto the back of Bucky's jacket.

He dropped Bucky on the roof with Sam and Clint before heading down to help the others. The other two were surveying the door, checking it for wires or alarms; Bucky walked right past them and kicked it in. "They already know we're here, dumbasses."

The first batch of agents they ran into were easily handled. Bucky could've taken them out by himself. The second group wasn't so easy. He had Clint at his back and found that the two of them moved well around each other, understanding each other's instincts and moves before they happened. They had never sparred and obviously never fought together before so it was strange. But it was also damn useful.

Sam wasn’t useless either, he supposed.

It didn't take long before Natasha was announcing in their comms that they had found whatever formula it was that Simmons had wanted and that Tony was taking it to the jet to protect it while the rest of them continued looking for the prisoners. It was right about then that they turned a corner and Bucky's mind faltered. He recognized this place.

"Bucky?" Clint's voice but he only barely heard it through the haze of memories.

"I...I know this place." A gunshot and a guard went down.

"We've got to keep moving." Sam's voice.

"Bucky," he felt Clint next to him as he took a few steps down the hall, trying to sort through the puzzle in his mind. "Are you with us, Barnes?"

A hand, two taps. He shook his head. "Bucky, listen to me."

Two more taps.

Reality came crashing back down. His face cleared. He brought his gun back up and said clearly, "I know where the prisoners are."

Moving quickly with Sam and Clint following closely, Bucky wove his way through the maze down into the center of base, taking out enemies coldly and efficiently. Sam had communicated over the comms that Bucky knew where the people were being held and was trying to keep with their twists and turns enough to get the rest of the team there.

Suddenly, Bucky stopped.

"They're in there," he said, emotionless.

"Why are you waiting?" Sam asked, covering their back and still trying to talk to the others.

"You have to go in there without me. They won't trust you if they see me."

Clint just nodded and pushed his way through the door with Sam following behind quickly. Bucky took a deep breath and brought his knife down on a guard thrown through the wall by what sounded like a very upset Hulk. Apparently, the others had found another way in. A few more agents came down his hallway and he took care of them before they could even get close the door.

"Calvary's here," Clint's voice came crackling over the comms and a woman's responding, "don't ever call me that again, Barton."

A few minutes later, "prisoners are all out. Bucky, where are you?"

Steve's voice. Bucky was too scared to move. His hands gripped his knives too tight and his body was shaking, losing the battle to the memories threatening to bring him down.

Clint suddenly popped out from the hole in the wall made by the Hulk’s earlier victim and latched onto his arm. "C'mon, Barnes. We're getting you the hell out of here."

Being in the chamber was even worse. The high ceilings and massive, now empty, cages. He could hear the screaming. The hours and hours of endless, terrified screaming as people were experimented on and tossed aside. He frantically tapped Clint's arm, trying to convey the opposite message the taps were usually meant for. He was not okay. He was definitely not okay.

"I know, Buck. I know," he said and moved faster in pursuit of the rest of their team, pulling Bucky along with him. Coulson's team was taking care of the prisoners and Tony was bringing in the quinjet. "We're almost there."

And then Bucky could see light ahead, and he surged towards it. And then they were outside and Bucky felt like he could breathe again. He fell to his knees, dragging in huge gasps of air, but Clint picked him back up as best he could. "Got to get to the jet, Buck. Just get to the jet."

Clint tapped his wrist and it helped to ground him a bit though his head was still spinning. This was what he had been dreaming about that night. The night Clint had found him about to spiral into a panic attack. He couldn't place the nightmare before but now he remembered all of it.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

"Buck! Buck, you okay?" Steve called once they had stumbled their way onto the jet. And then Clint was taken away from him. He couldn't hold onto him in the haze of Steve and Sam and Bruce and that British doctor. Distantly, he heard Clint's voice say something about “going into shock," just before he passed out.

 

He woke up with an IV drip in his arm in the back of the jet. How did they get an IV drip going while in flight? He wondered drowsily. He groaned and heard people moving around him. He must not have been out too long if they were still flying. Not more than an hour at least since that's about how long the flight was.

Water was dribbled into his mouth and he swallowed before opening his eyes slowly.

"How you feeling, Buck?"

Steve again. Not Clint. He felt bad being disappointed. Steve was his best friend, after all.

"Fine," he choked out and more water was soon poured down his throat. Feeling less parched, he asked, "how's everyone else?"

"Everyone else is fine. We're all good."

Not specific enough. He needed to know if Clint was alright. Gathering the strength, but already knowing that his head was going to be pounding, he moved to sit up.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sergeant Barnes," a British accent said to his left. He looked over and there she was, Steve's little doctor.

"Dr. Simmons is right," Steve said to his right and Bucky scoffed in disbelief.

"If it was you laid out like this, you would've already insisted on getting up and walking around." Bucky scowled at Steve. "Now help me up, you little punk."

Steve frowned at him. The classic Captain America I'm-disappointed-in-you face. Bucky really didn't care. Finally, he felt Steve's hand slip under his shoulder and his other grab onto Bucky's hand. With a loud groan, Bucky managed to sit all the way up.

He looked down in surprise. "Where is my shirt?"

It was hastily handed to him.

"We thought you were injured," Simmons explained.

Bucky swept his eyes around the jet after pulling on his shirt. Bruce and Sam were standing not far off. Thor was sitting near the front. Clint and Natasha were in the cockpit. That was good. If he was injured, he probably wouldn't be flying.

"Got any pain meds?" He asked the doctor, rubbing his temple to try to ease the pounding.

"Of course," she said, jumping to it. She actually seemed kind of perfect for Steve. Not in the way Peggy had been perfect. But in a special Dr. Simmons/2015 kind of perfect.

"What happened back there?" Steve asked after he swallowed down the pills.

"Nothin’," he replied gruffly, really not wanting to talk about it. "Just some memory issues."

"You said you didn't know the base," Sam commented as he walked up closer to them.

"Never saw the outside before." His metal hand fisted. "That's all you showed me."

"Well, it's a good thing you did know the base," de-hulked Banner said, trying to diffuse the tension. "Made it a lot easier to find the prisoners."

Sam grunted in agreement and moved off again.

Just then, Natasha announced that they would be landing soon. Bucky politely asked the doctor to take the IV out of his arm, turning on the charm. She did it quickly and by the time she was done, they were descending onto the roof of the tower. As fun as that little adventure had been, Bucky was thrilled to be back.

He grabbed his jacket and threw it on, getting off the jet as soon as the doors opened.

He sat through the boring debrief, though he had a good view to watch Clint without being noticed. The archer had a nasty cut on his left bicep and a bruise under his right eye. Nothing too major, as far as Bucky could tell.

He found out that the young doctor would be staying with them for a while for a couple of reasons. She needed protection now that Hydra knew she had been playing them. Somewhere to hide out for a while. And so she could use Stark’s equipment to analyze whatever was in those vials that they had brought back. Lucky for Steve.

As soon as it was over Bucky headed to their apartment and jumped in the shower. He stood under the hot water for perhaps too long, trying to force back all the images which has resurfaced, before climbing out and slipping into some clean clothes.

He paused then, standing in the middle of the bedroom, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to go see Clint, obviously, but had no idea where he was. For the first time, he regretted not having taken Tony up on the offer of buying him a cell phone.

He cleared his throat. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes?" The voice automatically replied.

"Do you know where Cli- Agent Barton is?"

"Agent Barton is currently in his apartment."

"'S he alone?" Bucky felt so ridiculous. Having a conversation with no one.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

"Would you like me to inform him that you are on your way, sir?"

"Uh, sure. Thanks."

"My pleasure, sergeant."

Bucky was about to leave, but then he paused. "Uh, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes?"

"Can you see all the rooms, all the time?"

A pause. "Yes, sir."

"Oh." Bucky felt himself go a very bright shade of scarlet.

"However, the cameras from the communal recreation room seems to have been malfunctioning for the last several nights."

"Malfunctioning?"

"Somehow the footage is being erased before anyone can see it."

"Well..." Bucky didn't really know how to respond to that. The computer was doing him favors. "Thanks, JARVIS."

Steve was just getting into the apartment, still in full gear minus his helmet when Bucky came out of his room.

"Where've you been?" Bucky asked.

"Just making sure Jemma got everything she needed." Steve shrugged nonchalantly.

A smirk settled on Bucky's face. "Oh, it's Jemma now?"

Steve's cheeks turned pink and he looked away, mumbling, "She asked me to call her Jemma."

"'S okay, Stevie," Bucky said with a chuckle. "It's obvious you like her."

Steve sputtered a bit in protest, but when Bucky just laughed, he said, "you were laying on the charm pretty thick back on the jet yourself so I don't think you have room to talk."

“That was for you, punk,” he told him. “You’re always too shy. Figured if I flirted with her a bit, you’d get jealous and step up.”

“Oh.” Steve paused and watched him for a second. “So you don’t like her?”

Bucky rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and scoffed. "I don't have enough room in my head right now to even contemplate adding another person in there. Besides, who would want me anyway?"

"Buck..." Steve started to protest, but Bucky was out the door before he could. Heading for the only person he wanted to want him. Pretty soon he was outside Clint's door. Just as he went to knock, it swung open and Clint dragged him in the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.

Clint examined him carefully with his hands resting on either side of Bucky's face. "How're you feeling?"

"'M fine," he responded, brushing off the question. "I came to check on you."

He touched the pad of his thumb to the bruise on Clint's cheek and then lifted his arm to examine the bandage that now covered the cut on his arm. His eyes narrowed and he said, "I don't like how breakable you are."

Clint grinned and responded, "I'm not as fragile as I look."

He pulled Bucky in for a heated kiss, sucking lightly on his bottom lip. Bucky groaned and moved closer, running his hands down his body. Suddenly, Clint yelped and flinched away, pulling Bucky's hand away from his left side.

Bucky's eyes went wide and he grabbed Clint's shirt, hiking it up to reveal a bruise twice the size of his hand on the other man's side. He settled an accusatory glare on Clint.

"It's just a couple of bruised ribs," Clint said with a light chuckle and a shrug that made him wince. "Better in no time."

Bucky shook his head disbelievingly and let the shirt fall back in place. He couldn't believe he'd let Clint get injured. If that happened during his panic attack, he would never forgive himself.

"I don't like how breakable you are," he repeated, stepping away from the other man so as to not injure him further.

Clint just rolled his eyes, but then his expression became serious. "So are you gonna tell me what happened back there?"

Bucky looked away, ashamed. Slowly, he mumbled, “I, uh, I was stationed there for a while. Recently, I think. Last couple of years maybe.” He shivered as he tried to push back the images in his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I think they were trying to make more…of me, you know? More people like me. So they needed a lot of samples. I had to, uh, I had to help…”

He choked on his own words. Breathing becoming erratic again. The panic attack was so fresh in his mind and he was worried what talking about the details would trigger. He just wanted to make sure Clint was okay.

"It’s okay. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready," Clint said and smiled. "You want pizza? I'm really craving some pizza."

"Pizza?” Bucky asked, trying to drag himself back to the present.

"Why not?" Clint responded—his favorite answer—grabbing some tennis shoes and pulling them on along with a baseball cap. "I need to not sit still, you need to get your mind off things, and as much as I'd like to distract you a different way..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I should probably let this heal a little before too much strenuous activity."

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Bucky's hand, pulling him back out the door and onto the elevator. They took it all the way to the garage, and then took the stairs back up a level so they could sneak out the side entrance rather than go through the lobby. It was still early evening so the sun was just going down and the streets were still buzzing with people. Clint seemed to buzz with the same energy and Bucky realized how much the archer enjoyed being out on the streets in the middle of it all.

The pizza joint Clint pulled him into a few blocks over was delicious. They talked about everything but the mission, made a list of movies they still needed to watch, and fought the ever-growing need to be closer to each other.

Eventually, Clint gave in and covered Bucky's hand with his own, hoping that no one would recognize them and post a picture of them all over the Internet or something. What a way for the team to find out. Besides, Bucky liked the kind of silent agreement they had made to not tell anyone yet. There was too much going on without them adding to it. And they were still figuring things out themselves.

But that little touch only made it worse and pretty soon Clint was slapping a few bills down on the table and pulling Bucky back out onto the less packed streets. Taking a few turns only vaguely in the direction of the tower, they quickly found themselves on a much quieter block, and Clint dragged him into a dark alley before unceremoniously pushing him against the wall once they were semi-blocked from sight by a dumpster and kissing him roughly. Bucky moaned into the kiss, bypassing Clint's waist and going straight for his ass.

"Thought you said you needed to heal," he forced out breathlessly when Clint's lips found their way to Bucky's jaw and began exploring the skin there.

Clint pulled away and grinned wickedly. "Screw that."

He immediately dropped to his knees in front of Bucky and flicked open the button on Bucky's jeans.

"Clint," Bucky groaned out his name when the other man's tongue circled his head teasingly. His hips were held firmly in place by Clint's large hands as he worked Bucky's cock. Burying one hand in Clint's hair, he whimpered helplessly when Clint deep-throated him without any hesitation.

"Fuck, Clint," Bucky groaned, straining to push himself further into the wet heat of Clint's mouth. It didn't take long before he was stammering out, "gonna come, Clint. I'm gonna...fuck."

If anything that seemed to make the other man work harder rather than pull off as Bucky had been expecting. One of Clint's hands left his hip and he had to fight the urge to thrust violently. When he looked down, he saw that Clint was stroking himself with quick movements as he continued his ministrations to Bucky's cock. The sight of it was enough to send Bucky over the edge with a loud groan.

Clint swallowed down every drop, continuing to work his cock until Bucky pulled him off and up. Clint's dick was still hard in his hand and, after a sloppy, rough kiss, Bucky spun him around so Clint's back was against his chest. Batting away his hand and carefully avoiding his ribs, Bucky jerked him off with quick, steady motions. The archer's head fell back against Bucky's shoulder and he muffled his moans with his own hand as Bucky dropped kisses onto his neck and clothed shoulder. It didn't take long before his back was arching with his release then relaxing back into Bucky as he came down.

Bucky turned him back gently so he could press their foreheads together and kiss him slowly. After a minute, when Clint's breathing evened out, he asked, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great," Clint said kissing him again before adding, "my ribs aren't too thrilled though."

Bucky laughed against the archer's lips and took his hand, pulling him out of the alley. "C'mon, dumbass. Let's get you some pain meds."

"I don't hear you complaining," Clint retorted, but was unable to suppress his grin as Bucky led him around by the hand. They didn't let each other go until they were within sight of the tower. When they were back on the elevator, heading up to the residential floors, Clint leaned against the wall of the elevator, grinned brightly, and said, "I'm definitely adding public sex acts to the list of ways to get rid of post-mission restlessness."

Bucky just shook his head and returned the archer’s grin. Just as he was about to pull Clint towards him for another kiss, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

"There you are, Barton." Natasha said, her eyes jumping from Clint to Bucky and back quickly. "Where've you been?"

"Went for a walk, found Barnes here wandering around, decided to go get some pizza," Clint said with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest.

Natasha watched them suspiciously for a second, her eyes narrowed, but Clint was wearing his usual grin and Bucky had emptied his face to the usual blank stare. Finally, she said, "that little hole in the wall a few blocks down?"

"Of course," Clint responded with a little scoff.

The doors opened again on Clint's floor and he climbed off quickly with Natasha following.

"See you later, Barnes." He said lightly. Bucky just nodded once as the doors closed behind them.

The next few hours were long and extremely boring. He talked and had a few beers with Steve and Sam before Steve decided he had to know if Jemma had found anything out about the vials they had retrieved. Sam left not long after citing exhaustion and tipsiness and really needing to stop drinking with super soldiers. Bucky tried to sleep for a few hours, but quickly gave up on that.

He didn't want to wake up Clint if he was sleeping. That was really the only thing keeping him from going down there. But on the other hand, he wouldn't mind just crawling into bed with Clint if he was sleeping.

He sighed and slumped back on his bed in annoyance.

"Sergeant Barnes," JARVIS' voice sounded in the room. "Agent Barton is requesting your presence in his apartment."

Bucky immediately jumped up and slipped on some flip flops. Before he could make it out of the room, JARVIS said, "Agent Barton has also requested that I inform you of the ubiquitous nature of cell phones in the twenty first century and suggests that you get one for your own use."

Bucky laughed. He seriously doubted Clint's version of the message had sounded anything like that. "I'll keep it in mind, JARVIS."

When he knocked a few minutes later, he heard a muffled, "it's open."

Clint was laid out on the couch watching a sitcom Bucky didn't recognize. Not that he really recognized anything on TV. He could count on one hand the number of times he had watched actual TV.

Without saying anything, Bucky crawled into the space between Clint and the couch and curled around him carefully, sighing in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> Check back again by Friday because the next chapter should be up by then (but don't hate me if it's not).  
> Feedback is always appreciated.


	3. Get Going Already

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for getting the chapter up a day early! It's a bit shorter than the previous ones, but the next one should be longer to make up for it.  
> This one is from Clint's POV which I always enjoy writing in 'cause he's so snarky and great. But as this is a fairly serious fic, I didn't go into too much humor.  
> There's a good dose of smut in this chapter, but other important things too.  
> Sorry for any typos or errors that you find, I got really tired of editing and decided to just post it.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Clint liked Bucky. Clint liked Bucky a whole lot.

Initially, it had been mere curiosity. He had heard the stories. God knows, Natasha had pestered him enough over the years with her theories about what he thought was just a ghost story. But then that first night, the ghost story had stood in front of him. Looking for all the world like any other guy on the street. Except for the metal arm, obviously. But damn, those eyes. They had drawn him in. Sweet, blue pools just begging to have a spark put back in ‘em. That ever-present tension in his shoulders. The dark, intelligent scowl on his face. Clint just couldn't help himself.

After only the first few days, though, he felt something else. A little bit of pity, though he knew Bucky would hate that. A large portion of comradeship--they understood each other in a weird way. And just the hint of a challenge. He had made it his mission to help Bucky adjust. He had seen the way Bucky reacted when he got too close that first night in the kitchen. The fight instincts. Those weren't the types of things you could unlearn all at once. No, sir. Clint settled in for the long haul.

And then there was the first time Bucky smiled at him. A real, honest grin that stopped him in his tracks. He would've handed his heart over right there had Buck asked. All those stories about what a ladies man Bucky Barnes had been suddenly made sense. How could anyone possibly resist a smile that beautiful? Not to mention the way, when he relaxed, Bucky's voice would slip back into that old 1940's Brooklyn accent that made Clint melt. And how Buck would sometimes watch him while he watched the movies; even after weeks, months, still surprised that Clint wanted to spend time with him. That part broke Clint’s heart a little bit.

He could still see it. All the horror that Bucky had endured. That he had caused. It was painted on his skin. It was lurking behind his eyes and in the twitches of his fingers. The shame that ate at him. It was all there.

When Clint had touched his shoulder and he jumped away... Damn. Like a kicked puppy.

There had been so much freedom in those first kisses. Those first touches. To see that ease ripped away so quickly made Clint physically ill. He could've lost him completely in that moment. The blink of an eye. After everything he had built up. All the trust. All the affection. Gone in one touch.

Clint had quickly decided that wasn't an option. He wasn't going to let this one go that easily.

And all that time he'd been helping himself too. Not only because of the distraction it had given him from his own problems. But feeling like someone needed him. Someone trusted him. The touches calmed him. Freed him. Just like they did for Buck. He was getting put back together by Bucky while he was putting Bucky back together. It was a perfect scenario.

But now, now he was getting damn tired of Bucky treating him like fucking glass doll.

So typical that he would get injured right as their relationship hit the next level. He wasn't even really injured. Just a little banged up. But after that detour into the alley, Bucky had been adamant that they keep it PG until he was fully healed.

Not that he didn't enjoy the cuddling and the sweet, little kisses. He did. He also really enjoyed Bucky's dick and would like to get more acquainted with it.

Almost two weeks had passed since the mission. They still spent every night together. Bucky would sneak down to his apartment and they would watch a movie, or just talk, or just sleep. Clint was sleeping so much better lately. The nightmares weren't gone by any means. It was just a lot easier to fall back asleep with Bucky's arms around him, listening to his heart beat instead of the imagined--or remembered, he could never really tell--screams and explosions that filled every corner in his mind. Except for the corner where Bucky was. Luckily, that one seemed to be growing.

And then there were Bucky's dreams. Sometimes even after he woke up, he wouldn't know where he was, he wouldn't recognize Clint. He had two reactions to those nights. Either, Clint would wake up with a metal hand around his throat or he would wake up to find Bucky huddled in the corner of the room, desperately begging for mercy. Surprisingly, it was easier to snap him out of the former. Two taps on his wrist and Clint would be able to breathe again. Then he would spend a while convincing Bucky that he was fine and there was no need for apologies.

The second reaction was worse, in Clint’s opinion. Much worse. Though Bucky might disagree because this reaction meant he was less likely to hurt Clint. First of all, he wouldn't even let Clint get close to him. With his metal arm tucked against the wall, he would lash out with his other anytime Clint tried to touch him, tears streaming down his face and voice breaking in terror. Made Clint feel like his whole heart was gonna give out. He always had to wait until Bucky started to come out of it, started to remember where he was before Clint could get his attention and tap his wrist without him freaking out. Neither of them slept again on those nights.

That day two weeks after the mission, Bucky stopped by the shooting range after sparring with Steve. He did that sometimes. Even before they kissed, when it was just late night movies. Sitting on the balcony above the range, he would silently follow Clint with his eyes. Sometimes Steve came with him. Or Natasha or Sam would show up and watch too. Clint didn't mind. He liked to put on a show. What ex-carnie wouldn't get a thrill out of it?

Clint decided that it was a perfect day to put on a show. Show Bucky just how not injured he was. So he set it to the hardest level and made a point of flipping, rolling, and twisting around the room as the moving targets came at him. When he hit the last one, he turned and looked Bucky straight in the eyes. Bucky smirked back at him.

Then, to Clint's surprise, he made his way down to the range. Without a word, he walked over to the wall of weapons, picked out a gun and a few throwing knives, and then stepped up to the start block. Clint was still standing in the middle of the room, but when Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, he quickly moved over to the observation area. And then Bucky proceeded to destroy Clint's score—Tony had to make everything a competition.  
If it hadn't been so infuriating, it would've been impressive.

Either way, it was damn sexy and Clint had a real hard time not jumping him right then.

Instead, he reloaded his arrows, adding a few extra trick ones to the mix, and stepped back up. Bucky's smirk was even bigger now, but it just fueled Clint's determination. Somehow—JARVIS most likely—word seemed to have gotten out about Bucky beating Clint's score. Not even Natasha could beat Clint's score when he was using his bow. So the balcony was suddenly full to bursting with the team and a few of their various significant others.

No time for showboating on this round. Clint was all precision and efficiency. Though Bucky had thoroughly thrashed his previous score of that day, it was still only a few above his all-time top score. And he had the appropriate motivation this time around.  
He beat Bucky's score by one.

Breathing heavily, he turned to Bucky and raised an eyebrow. "How 'bout it, Buck?"

Still smiling, Bucky switched out his gun, storing a few extra clips in easy reach, and grabbed a couple extra throwing knives. When he was on the starting block again, with his back to everyone else, he winked at Clint and grinned cockily, twirling one of the knives in his metal hand at his side. Clint just rolled his eyes and waved his hand in a "get going already" gesture.

Once the timer started, Bucky was all business. His metal arm moved with lethal grace, and Clint was again very glad that they were on the same team now. When it was said and done, Bucky had tied Clint's score exactly.

"I'm out of practice," he said as Clint approached him once the targets were down.

"Oh, yeah. Yep, me too," Clint said, still breathing heavily from his earlier turn, and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll get’cha next time for sure."

"Sure you will, old man," Bucky chuckled and winked at Clint again. He was making it very hard for Clint to not kiss him.

“A wonderful bout!” Thor boomed as he and the others made their way down.

"About time someone knocked Clint off the podium." Tony approached from behind with his typical smirk. Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder in congratulations, and Natasha nodded at both of them in approval.

"In case you didn't notice, we tied," Clint pointed out. He wanted nothing more than to flee to his apartment with Bucky in tow, but based on how many people were now surrounding them on the range, that wasn't going to happen. "I am very much so still on the podium."

Tony flicked his eyes to Bucky, fiddling with the small screen he always carried around, and said, "Makes you glad he's on our side, huh?"

Clint may have just been thinking the same thing not long before, but the way Tony said it, with that air of suspicion and incredulity, made Clint step between him and Bucky, crossing his arms over his chest and his face darkening. He said, "Yeah, it's always nice to have another good man on the team."

"Especially a man with Hydra knowledge because he used to work for them," Tony responded immediately, not backing down.

"Right." Clint kept his voice light though his face was serious, dangerous, daring Tony to keep going. "Like Simmons does. They've both got Intel on Hydra that we can use."

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Clint heard shuffling behind him and then felt the familiar warmth of Bucky next to him. His whole body tensed and ready for a confrontation that Clint was praying wouldn’t come no matter how much he wanted to punch Tony right then, the former assassin said through gritted teeth, "If you've got something to say to me, Stark, you'd better just come out with it."

Tony lifted his hands in a placating gesture and took a few steps back, though his face was clearly challenging the two men.

"I'm just saying that, based on that last mission, you don't even know what's in your head, apparently, so we definitely don't know what's in your head." He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "I'm just looking out for the team. I mean, who knows what could be programmed into you. And we let you stay in the same tower as us. You stay in Cap's apartment, for god’s sake. How long before you have a flashback that makes you go after him? Wasn’t that your mission? Heard you were flirting with Simmons. You take her to bed yet? ‘Cause that’s got to be really safe..."

"I suggest you stop now, Tony," Steve cut him off, stepping up next to Bucky, his body emanating anger. A normal man would’ve been terrified to have two super soldiers glaring at him with the amount of hostility that was being levelled at Tony, but Tony is Tony. So, of course, he opened his mouth to keep talking.

Without waiting to see what Tony was going to say, Bucky turned and stalked out of the training room, everyone else making a path for him automatically. Clint only kind of listened to Steve and Tony argue for another minute, though his whole body itched to go find Bucky.

Finally, he couldn't take it. Stomping away, Clint deposited the bow he'd been using with the other weapons and made his way around the clump of people still watching the confrontation. Natasha was towards the back of the group, her arms crossed and eyebrows pulled in. She just nodded to him when he caught her eye, saying nothing, though probably reading everything she needed from his body language.

He pushed out of the doors to the training rooms and made his way into the elevator before saying, "JARVIS, where's Bucky?"

"Sergeant Barnes is waiting outside your apartment, sir," the AI responded immediately.

"Take me there, please." He let out a sigh of relief as the elevator began moving. It wouldn't have surprised him if Bucky had just taken off or disappeared into the shadows like he could so easily. Clint was very glad the other man had chosen to go to his apartment instead.

When he got to his door, Bucky was waiting a bit farther down the hallway. Far enough that, if Clint had approached with someone else, he could've plausibly claimed to not be waiting on Clint.

Without saying a word, Clint let them both into the apartment, dropping his keys on the counter in the little kitchenette that he hardly ever used. He took one of Bucky's clenched fists and flipped it over, tapping his fingers to Bucky's wrist.

"Stark's an ass," he said when Bucky finally met his eyes.

At first, the other man’s expression didn’t change. The pissed off mask staying firmly in place. But in one quick moment, it changed to something mischievous. Bucky shrugged and looked down at where Clint was still holding his wrist. He shifted his hand so he could intertwine their fingers and said, "I really don't want to talk about Stark."

He knew Bucky should talk about how he was feeling. They still hadn't really discussed what had happened on the mission two weeks before. That’s definitely not a healthy way to handle things, even for a super soldier. Maybe especially for a super soldier. But the way Bucky was looking at him sent a very clear message. One that made all of his blood towards his groin. Raising an eyebrow, Clint stepped closer to him and asked, "What do you want to talk about then?"

Bucky smirked and leaned close, his voice low and gravelly as he said, "how about how damn sexy you looked on that shooting range today?"

"Me?" Clint chuckled and let his free hand come up to rest on Bucky's hip before moving it underneath his shirt, massaging the warm flesh. "You looked so good I wanted to rip your clothes off and let you take me right there."

Bucky's answering growl was cut off by Clint smashing their lips together in a heated kiss. He was pushed up against the counter as Bucky shoved his thigh between Clint's legs, rubbing against him in a way that made Clint moan helplessly.

"You sure you're good for this?" Bucky asked breathlessly, pulling away just enough to get the words out.

"Jesus, Buck, yes," Clint growled, his fingers digging into the other man's sides. If Bucky tried to stop now, Clint would probably start actually begging. "I want you so fucking much."

Bucky's only response was to grab onto his hand and pull him towards the bedroom, stopping every few steps for a sloppy kiss.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Clint was shoved against it, Bucky sucking greedily on his neck. Placing his hands on Bucky's chest, Clint pushed back, making him walk backwards until Bucky's knees hit the bed and he fell onto it. Clint knelt in front of him, pulling off Bucky’s shoes as he discarded his shirt hurriedly. Once his pants had been thrown into the pile as well, Clint stood and undressed quickly as Bucky watched hungrily, licking his lips, his pupils blown wide with lust.

Clint ducked his head for another messy, eager kiss and followed Bucky onto the bed as he moved farther back. When Bucky pulled him down against him fully, Clint broke the kiss, pulling his head back, taking in Bucky's face, and feeling his lover's body on his.

"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" He whispered after a moment with a soft, fond smile, his thumb running along Bucky's lower lip.

Bucky caught his hand, kissed the palm, and said, "I was just thinking the same thing."

Clint pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, but sweetness soon gave way to passion as he deepened it. He ran his hands down Bucky's body until he had a good grip on the other man's hips and began to let his mouth explore downwards, sucking, licking and biting his way along Bucky's body. He ran his tongue down the hard lines of Bucky's stomach muscles before dipping it into his navel.

"Fuck, Clint," Bucky moaned just as Clint hooked two fingers under the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down slowly as his mouth continued to nip at the skin being exposed. Quickly, the underwear was tossed to the side and Clint licked a long stripe up Bucky's shaft from base to tip. Bucky's body shuddered and strained as Clint expertly worked his tongue around Bucky's cock. He didn't stop until Bucky was panting helplessly, begging. God, he loved the way Bucky's body responded to him.

He pulled off and grabbed the lube and a condom from the drawer next to the bed. Just as he was about to spread the lube on his fingers, Bucky pulled it out of his hand and lubed his own. He directed Clint onto his hands and knees and positioned himself behind him. Dropping kisses along his spine, Bucky brushed one finger over Clint's entrance, coating it with the lube. Clint's whole body buzzed with anticipation, and he pushed back against the finger, eager to have Bucky inside of him no matter how initially uncomfortable it might be.

Bucky took his time preparing him, driving Clint absolutely crazy with need. Especially once his fingers found Clint's prostate and began to purposefully tease him, keeping him on the edge but not letting him fall over it.

"Buck, I swear to god," Clint groaned out. "If you don't get inside me right now, I'm gonna...fuck."

His eyes squeezed shut as Bucky chuckled and crooked his fingers to that spot once again.

"What did’ya say, handsome?" Bucky asked, clearly amused at his own jokes.

"Swear to god, Buck," was all Clint could pant in response.

Suddenly, to Clint's relief and dismay, Bucky's fingers were removed. One of Bucky's hands came to rest on his hip, while the other wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him upwards. Bucky was on his knees, sitting back on his heels in between Clint's shins. With the metal hand gripping tightly to his hip, Clint was guided backwards until his back was to Bucky's firm chest and then slowly brought down on Bucky's cock. The former assassin explored the scars on his back as he sank down slowly, letting himself adjust to Bucky's size. Both men moaned loudly as Clint took Bucky in all the way.

Bucky's teeth sank into Clint's skin before he whispered in Clint's ear, "so tight. Fuck."

Clint reached backwards with one hand to dig into Bucky's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and began to move, quickly losing himself in the rhythm they set as Bucky's hips came up to meet his every time he sank back down. Bucky's lips were on his neck, on his shoulder, on his back, and his hands were everywhere, roaming freely over the scarred skin. He was all Clint could feel, all the he was aware of.

"Feel so good, Clint," Bucky murmured in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. Bucky's hand closed over Clint's erection as he spoke and began to work it in time with their movements.

"Fuck. That's good, Buck," Clint said, his head falling back onto Bucky's shoulder.

It didn’t take long before he was coming with a mild oath and Bucky's name on his lips, his lover following quickly as his muscles clenched.

"So fucking good," Bucky murmured, peppering kisses along Clint's neck as they both came down.

Clint pulled himself off quickly and slumped onto the pillows, utterly spent. He really was getting old. The bed shifted a few times, and then Bucky fell down next to him, wrapping his metal arm tight around Clint's waist. Drawing the other man closer to his side, Clint pressed his lips into Bucky's hair and said, "That was fantastic."

"You ain't lyin'," Bucky responded, the sleepiness in his voice almost matching Clint's.

Clint took his hearing aids out, laying them on the bedside table, and tapped Bucky's wrist, feeling incredibly relaxed. They drifted off to sleep tangled in each other, comfortable and sated and happy.

 

Clint woke when the bed began shifting again, but it was frantic, hurried movements, not the languid and calm movements from earlier. He opened his eyes in time to see Bucky standing in the middle of the room, naked, clutching his metal arm to his chest, and frantically looking around the room with no recognition of his surroundings. Clint sat up quickly, calling out Bucky's name and reaching for his hearing aids. The only response to his voice was fear as Bucky dived for the corner of the room, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He almost wished that he hadn't put his hearing aids in when he turned them on and was assaulted with the sounds of Bucky's whimpered cries for mercy. God, this is not what he wanted to wake up to after the first time they made love. He desperately wished he had any idea how to fix this. He would do anything to take this pain away from Bucky. Also, he really wanted to kill every Hydra agent in the world for their complicity in doing this to Bucky.

Inching towards the edge of the bed slowly so as not to spook Bucky, he pulled on his underwear, sat down in front of the other man cross-legged, his hands firmly in his lap, trying to be as unthreatening as possible, and began to speak softly to him, saying his name, reassuring him that he was safe. If this went well, in a few minutes Bucky would've gotten used to his voice and begun to recognize him so he wouldn't immediately push him away when Clint reached out to tap his wrist. The times it didn't go well, they could end up sitting there for an extended period of time before Bucky began to come out of it on his own. The record was an hour and a half. Clint had no desire to break it.

Luckily, this was one of the former, and it only took about ten minutes before Bucky's face shifted from pure terror to confusion and uncertainty. Clint scooted a bit closer saying, "Bucky, its Clint. We're okay. You're okay."

“Please. Don’t,” Bucky sobbed, but then shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. His eyes still held no recognition when he looked back at Clint.

"C'mon, sugar, it's me. It's Clint. I'm not gonna hurt you," he murmured as he continued to scoot closer. When he reached out, Bucky shrank back against the wall as if he was trying to disappear into it, but didn't lash out. That was usually a good sign.

“Please, don’t,” Bucky repeated.

Carefully, Clint took ahold of the wrist of his flesh hand and flipped it, quickly tapping the inside of it twice. Something flickered in Bucky's eyes so Clint said, "that's right, Buck. Come back to me."

"Clint?" Bucky's voice was small, unsure. He shook his head again, trying to push out whatever was in there.

Clint sat up on his knees, leaning closer and tapped his wrist again. "Yeah, yeah. It's me, Bucky."

Suddenly two arms shot out, wrapping around his waist and pulling him close as Bucky curled into his chest.

"We're alright, Buck. We're alright," he said, curling up into the corner with Bucky. He ran his hand through the other man's hair gently and continued whispering whatever he could think of to try and make it better, holding him tight against his body as Bucky sobbed. That, as awful as it had been, was actually one of the better episodes. Sometimes Bucky injured himself as he tried to get away from the imagined threats, and sometimes he was just stuck in whatever world he was seeing for so long that Clint wondered if he was ever going to be able to get out. And Clint had no way to protect him from it. He fucking hated being helpless.

Eventually, Bucky began to relax in his arms. He pulled the other man out into the living room and settled again on the couch with Bucky's head on his chest. Getting Bucky out of the room he had the breakdown in always seemed to help, for whatever reason. Clint didn’t question what worked; just did everything he could to make it better.

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered after a few minutes, his voice still thick and his eyes forced to stay open despite his exhaustion, terrified of what his brain would bring up if he let them close again.

"You've nothing to be sorry for, sugar," Clint murmured into his hair, his hands rubbing comforting circles into Bucky's back. "You know I'm here for you."

Bucky sighed. His flesh hand clutched at Clint's side, holding him there, even as he said, "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Neither should you," Clint pointed out, though he knew Bucky thought he deserved whatever suffering he went through for the things he had done as the Winter Soldier. "But there's no way I'm letting you deal with it alone, Buck."

This was the thing with him and Bucky, when things were good, they were great. The second something went wrong, though, Bucky would try to push him away. It had only been two weeks and they’d already been on a roller coaster ride with Bucky’s nightmares. This conversation was nothing new. They were basically talking from a script at this point. His biggest fear was that one day Bucky’s desire to protect Clint would outweigh his desire for Clint, and he’d leave. 

Clint typically agreed with Natasha. Love was for children. And, in their line of work, it just didn’t make sense. But he had fallen hard for Bucky without even giving it a second thought. He didn’t know what he would do if that was taken away.

Before Bucky could say anything else, Clint grabbed the remote and found a movie to watch. He knew Bucky wouldn’t want to sleep again for a while, so they needed something to distract them and keep them awake.

Bucky seemed to pick up on that fact that he didn’t want to have that conversation right then and let it drop which Clint was immensely grateful for. Though he was sure it would come up again sooner rather than later. Bucky’d never be able to convince him that he was better off without him, and Clint was really tired of him trying. He had already decided. He was in this for the long haul and that wasn’t going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bucky :'(  
> There are some parts of this chapter that I think turned out well and others that I'm not too crazy about. But it is what it is.  
> I've got a busy weekend so the next chapter probably won't be posted until middle of next week or so. I'll just have to see how everything goes. It'll switch back and forth between Clint and Bucky's POVs though, so that's fun.  
> I hope you liked it! Feedback is, as always, very appreciated!


	4. Going Steady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter takes place directly after the events of last chapter.  
> There's a little of both Bucky and Clint's perspective which is fun, but mostly Clint.  
> In some ways this chapter is really just a build up to the next chapter, but its also important to the relationship development. Anyway, I'm going to stop talking now.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

When Bucky realized that Clint was falling asleep, he forced the archer back to the bedroom despite his insistence that he could stay awake with Bucky. There was no way Bucky was going to let him do that.

Clint sacrificed his sleep enough to take care of Bucky.

"I need to go see Steve anyway," Bucky said, kissing Clint's forehead and pulling the blanket up around him. "I'm sure he's wondering where I've been since that scene with Stark earlier."

Clint muttered something unintelligible as his eyes closed and he settled into the pillows, exhausted. Bucky hated being the reason Clint didn't get sleep some nights. Hated that Clint had to put up with all of his shit.

But he also knew that he needed Clint. More and more as the days passed, Bucky became aware of how much he relied on Clint. He couldn't imagine his life without the archer and that kind of scared him. Having Clint in his life meant freedom, stability, and, though he hadn't told Clint this yet, love. Something Bucky had thought himself incapable of after being under Hydra's control for so long. At least when it came to anyone except Steve. Some connections you can’t forget even if they become strained the way his and Steve’s relationship had been.

But Clint had been an unknown entity when they met in the kitchen that night, and he ended up being, probably, the romantic love of Bucky’s life. He came into Bucky’s life when he thought himself broken for good. Clint represented the closest thing to a normal, happy life someone like Bucky would ever have.

But at the cost of Clint's own well-being? That was a terrifying thought. While being with Clint made Bucky better, he was worried that being with him would only compound Clint's problems. But he was too selfish to actually let Clint go. He'd never be strong enough to do what needed to be done.

"I'll be back," he whispered to Clint's sleeping form. Because he would. He'd never be strong enough to leave.

When he strode into Steve's apartment a few minutes later, his friend was sitting on the couch with a couple of empty beer bottles in front of him and another in his hand. Steve looked up in surprise when he heard the door open and stood immediately, crossing the room and pulling Bucky into a hug.

"I thought... I thought maybe you'd left," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Turning off the warning bells in his mind the way he had learned to do with Clint, Bucky relaxed and slowly returned the hug. "No," he said with a sigh. He should've realized Steve would be freaking out when he didn't come back. It had been at least eight hours since the confrontation in the shooting range. "I just needed some time to think."

Steve pulled back then, but left his hands on Bucky's shoulders. Those big blue eyes were wide and sincere as he said, "you know I'd go with you, right? If...if you decided to leave?"

"Yeah, I know, Stevie." Bucky offered a small smile and patted Steve's shoulder before stepping back out of Steve's reach. As much as he loved Steve, touching anyone that wasn't Clint for too long still made him tense up uncontrollably. But he was getting better at it, and he made a special effort for Steve. Grabbing a beer for himself from the fridge and popping the top off with his metal hand, he continued, "But you don't have to worry about it. I'm not going anywhere."

Steve beamed back at him and Bucky suddenly felt very guilty. Ever since the thing with Clint had gone past the just movie nights stage, he really hadn't spent much time with Steve except for during their workouts. He knew that wasn't fair. Steve was the reason Bucky had showed up at Avengers tower all those months ago in the first place. And Steve had made every effort to re-establish their relationship. Bucky was the problem. When was Bucky not the problem?

But maybe he could actually do something to fix this. He had been learning to cope with his triggers and breakdowns, and he was finally getting to the point where normal human interaction with people other than Clint was possible. Steve deserved to have his friend back. Or whatever version of his friend Bucky could come up with.

"Steve," he started with a sigh. Unable to meet his friend's eyes, he fiddled with the cap to his beer as he attempted to put his thoughts into words. "You know...that I'm not...I can't be that guy. The one that you knew back in Brooklyn. I'm not him."

When he looked up, Steve was shaking his head in exasperation. "You don't have to be anyone, Buck. I'm always going to be your friend. I don't expect anything from you. I'm just glad you're here."

"Really?" Bucky's tone was incredulous. Disbelieving. He couldn't understand what he had done in his life to deserve two people who actually gave a damn whether he stayed or left. "Even after I've treated you like shit these past few months?"

"You haven't treated me like shit," Steve replied immediately. "You just had some stuff to figure out. And I didn't know how to help you. No matter how much I wanted to, I just... I didn't know." Steve looked down, as if now he couldn't meet Bucky's eyes. As if he was ashamed of something. "If anything, that's why we've had trouble reconnecting. It's my fault you haven't had someone to help you. That you had to deal with it alone."

"No." Bucky cut him off. What kind of nonsense was Steve spouting? It was so typical Steve though. To see himself as the bad guy. Always assuming that he was doing something wrong when it was really Bucky who was ruining everything. "Steve, no. You haven't done anything wrong. You've been there for me the whole time and I never gave you a chance to help. You're not to blame here."

They held eye contact for a minute, Bucky unyielding, determined to make Steve understand it was not his fault, and Steve unsure, not believing that he couldn't have done more or tried harder. Finally, Steve smiled a little and shook his head. "I've got a feeling we could talk this in circles for hours. How about we just start over?"

Bucky smiled in return. "That could be good. As long as starting over still includes me kicking your ass during our runs every morning."

"Yeah, right. I've been going easy on you," Steve scoffed. "But not anymore. You'd better watch out."

"Punk."

"Jerk."  
            They exchanged happy grins as the tread on familiar territory. Bucky decided teasing was the safest way to go for right now as they tried to rebuild the easiness they once felt around each other and asked, “So how’s the lovely Dr. Simmons doing?”

Steve immediately blushed all the way to the roots of his hair. Bucky laughed openly at the typical Steve reaction before taking a swig from his beer. Steve still had no idea how to deal with women.

The captain rubbed the back of his neck and said, “It’s, uh, it’s good. She’s really nice.”

“Must be if Captain America likes her,” Bucky replied, winking at him.

Steve just rolled his eyes at the comment. “Captain America likes her fine, I guess. Steve Rogers likes her a whole lot though.”

“So you’ve asked her out?” He knew what the answer was going to be, but he asked it anyway with raised eyebrows, daring Steve to prove him wrong.

Steve flipped him off. “No, I haven’t. It’s not the right time. She’s wanted by Hydra and has to stay in the tower and has a lot of work to do too. It’s better to take things slow for now.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re scared,” Bucky said with a knowing look on his face, his smirk only growing more pronounced. He may not feel as close to the blonde man, but there was no doubting that he still understood how Steve worked.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, jerk. I literally cannot take her out,” Steve insisted, his hands moving through the air to emphasize his point in the way Steve always does when he gets exasperated.

“So make her dinner in the tower,” Bucky suggested. “Just because you can’t go out doesn’t mean you can’t go out, you know?” He indicated the kitchenette area they were standing in. “What do you need that you don’t have right here?”

Steve hesitated. Bucky knew that Steve knew he was right. He was always right about these things. The only romantic situation he’d ever been unsure about was with Clint, but that was different. Clint was more… well, just _more_ than any relationship Bucky had had back before the war and everything went down. He wasn’t able to think about Clint objectively the way he had thought about all the women he had wooed over the years or the way he thought about Steve’s crush.

“Yeah, okay. You’re probably right,” Steve finally acquiesced with a smile.

“Damn straight. You gotta just go for it, Stevie. Pretty soon she’s going to go back to her team and you’re gonna have missed your chance. Again.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his face became serious again as he watched Bucky. Slowly he said, “Look, Buck, that stuff with Tony… Tony’s just…well, he’s Tony. Nobody else feels like that.”

“Couldn’t blame them if they did,” Bucky told him honestly. “He’s not wrong. I don’t know what’s in my head and that makes me a threat to all of you.”

Steve shook his head in denial. “I don’t believe that. What happened at the base was a fluke. You’ve been getting memories back and you were just surprised by that one.”

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He appreciated that Steve would always see the best in him even after all he’d done and all the years he’d spent as one of the bad guys, but he also worried that one day it would get him seriously injured. “Steve, when I sleep, I only have nightmares. Half the time when I wake up, I don’t know where I am. I’ve attacked you before because of that. I am dangerous and there’s really no point in denying it.”

He decided to leave out how many times he had attacked Clint because there was no way to explain that without telling the whole story.

“But it’s getting better, right?” Steve asked leaning on the counter between them. “You don’t have anywhere near as many flashbacks anymore.”

Well, that was true. It was getting better, but probably not as much better as Steve thought seeing as most of them happened in Clint’s apartment lately and in Steve’s so he just didn’t see them.

“Better doesn’t mean good, Stevie.”

Steve huffed, looking like he wanted to protest even more, but didn’t know what to say. Bucky smiled at him, trying to alleviate the somber air that had overtaken them again. He was tired of making Steve sad.

“How ‘bout this, Stevie,” he said, forcing his smile bigger. “You ask her out and I’ll make dinner for the two of you. I assume your cooking skills haven’t improved since the war?”

“Jerk.” Steve spat good-naturedly, then sighed helplessly. “But yes, that would actually be great.”

“Just let me know when, Stevie.” Bucky’s grin widened victoriously.

\-------

Clint and Bucky settled into a routine that Clint very much so enjoyed. They'd wear each other out fucking, and then have the conversations that they couldn't convince themselves to have when they were less satisfied and bucolic. Expressing their feelings in word form was not an area of expertise for either of them and, for whatever reason, it was just easier to do after being intimate.

One day, after a particularly lively round of lovemaking, Bucky was resting on Clint's chest as he played with Bucky's hair the way he liked to do when Bucky said quietly, "I'm no good for you."

Clint sighed. Most of the time when Bucky said stuff like that, which was fairly often, he would just ignore it or immediately kiss him to try to show him how wrong he was—because Clint was bad at expressing himself with words, remember?—but he was pretty fed up with it at this point. So instead, he said, "Buck, you've gotta stop trying to push me away. It won't work."

Bucky sat up slightly so he could see Clint's face, his expression hard. "No, but honestly," he demanded. "What do you get out of being with me? A terrible sleep schedule and a buncha bruises from when I lose it. You get nothing good from this."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Clint cried, his hand gripping Bucky's flesh arm tightly. Sometimes Bucky would pull away, and Clint would suddenly be terrified that he was about to walk away completely. This was one of those times. "My sleep schedule is better than it’s been since the Battle of New York! I used to never be able to go back to sleep after my nightmares, but I can when you're around. And I was so fucking lonely before I met you. I felt like nobody trusted me after that shit with Loki. But then I met you." He poked the other man hard in the chest. "And someone trusted me again. You made me feel like I was worth something again, Buck. So don't even try to tell me that shit about you bein' bad for me ever again."

Bucky's mouth was hanging open in surprise. When Clint was done, he swallowed thickly and said, "Really?"

"Yes, really." Clint rolled his eyes and pulled Bucky back down onto his chest, petting his lover's hair gently, incredibly relieved that Bucky didn’t try to leave. Then he chuckled lightly in relief and murmured, "You dumbass. Acting like I don't get anything out of this. I get everything out of this. I get you."

He tightened his arms around Bucky's shoulders and sighed, determining once again that there was no way he was letting this one go easily.

About a week later, they were lying next to each other in bed, hands intertwined between them, their breathing just starting to even out again when Bucky cleared his throat and asked, "is this just...are we just, um, fuckbuddies?"

Clint couldn't hold back a burst of laughter that sprang up from the pit of his belly. Both at how awkward Bucky had sounded—the term obviously being a new addition to his vocabulary. Sometimes he loved being able to witness Bucky’s discovery of the twenty first century—and at the general ridiculousness of the question.

He rolled onto his side to look at Bucky who had a less than amused look on his face. " _No_ ," he said emphatically, stressing the syllable and still grinning at his lover.  "At least, not for me."

"Good," Bucky said, nodding once, his gaze shifting back to the ceiling. "Me neither."

Clint settled back down against the bed, scooting a little closer to Bucky and letting his eyes close.

But then Bucky cleared his throat again and asked, "so...are we, you know, going steady?"

Clint's amusement got the better again and he burst out in laughter. At the same time thinking that he was failing at Bucky’s culture education if he knew “fuckbuddies” but still used “going steady.” When he got it under control, he squeezed Bucky's hand and replied, "Sure. I guess you could say that."

Bucky huffed in annoyance, turning his head to look at Clint. "You know what I mean, asshole. I just...I don't know how all of this works anymore. Back in my day, we would take a girl out... and meet her parents... And I don't know... there were...there were rules and expectations and I don't know what that looks like nowadays."

Clint rolled again so that he was half-laying on Bucky's chest, his grin turning impish. "You sayin' you wanna court me, Barnes?"

Bucky chuckled along with him at the question and rolled his eyes. Clint dropped a kiss onto Bucky's lips 'cause this conversation was just too adorable for words and he couldn't handle it. But when he looked back up, Bucky's face had turned serious again and he said, "I'm saying I want to do this right."

He reached up and cupped Clint's face with one hand. Clint could hardly breathe with the intensity of the look Bucky was giving him. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss into the palm of Bucky's hand.

"I care about you, Clint," Bucky continued softly, running his thumb over Clint’s cheekbone. "Maybe I'm not ready to tell everyone about us yet, but that doesn't mean I don't take this seriously. Take us seriously."

Clint took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss Bucky again before tapping his fingers to the other man's wrist and saying, "I care about you too, Buck. And I like the way things are for now. I’m not gonna push you to tell anyone until you’re ready." He thought for a minute before adding with an indulgent smile, "Dating in this day and age isn't nearly as rigid as it used to be. But as far as what you said... We went out. Remember? Dinner and a blowjob?"

Bucky laughed and smacked Clint's arm for the awful joke. But didn't say anything as he continued in a more serious tone, "And as far as family...Natasha's the only family I've got worth mentioning. And you've already met her."

Bucky nodded and said, "And you've met Steve."

Clint grinned down at him. "So we're two for two. Don't seem so untraditional now, do we?"

"Guess not," Bucky replied, smiling back up at him before rolling them over quickly so Clint was pushed back into the mattress and kissing him hungrily.

Clint could feel Bucky getting harder against his leg so when the other man pulled back for some air, Clint chuckled breathlessly and said, "I appreciate your excitement, sugar, but I'm not a super soldier and my body's a bit older than yours, so you might have to give me a few more minutes."

Bucky smirked devilishly at him and rolled his hips against Clint's before asking, "Are you sure about that?"

Clint's eyes fluttered shut and he moaned as Bucky rolled his hips again.

"Might be ready sooner than I thought," he said helplessly as Bucky began sucking on his neck.

Bucky's lips and teeth and tongue made a beeline down his body, nipping at all of his sensitive areas that Bucky seemed to have memorized over the last few weeks.

"Fuck, Bucky," he groaned out when Bucky fisted his cock which had indeed begun to harden quickly.

Bucky pumped it a few times; the fingers of his metal hand massaging Clint's balls gently before he took the head of the shaft in his mouth, twirling his tongue around it teasingly. One of Clint's hands was buried in Bucky's hair while the other gripped the sheets on the bed tightly as Bucky bobbed his head up and down Clint's length.

Once Clint was achingly hard, Bucky took him deep into his throat easily, his other hand returning to the ministrations on Clint's balls. So much for being old, Clint felt like a teenage boy with how fast Bucky was bringing him to orgasm.

"Buck, I'm gonna...fuck. I'm gonna come, Buck," he stuttered.

Bucky hummed around him and flattened his tongue against the underside of his dick, slowly raising his head until the tongue was brushing over the head again before sinking back down until his nose was pushed against Clint's groin.

Clint's whole body stiffened as the orgasm washed over him and he came down Bucky's throat.

"Holy fuck," he gasped as he came down, his vision clearing. "Does the super soldier serum take away your gag reflex too?"

Bucky chuckled, rolling onto his side next to Clint as he began to jerk himself off. Clint kissed him sloppily, tasting himself on Bucky's tongue, and batted away the other man's hand, picking up where Bucky left off.

The fast rhythm Clint set soon had Bucky spilling onto his hand and stomach. Before Bucky had even recovered from his climax, Clint had cleaned them both off and pulled his lover into his arms. Bucky shifted and pressed a soft kiss to Clint's shoulder.

"We'll get all of this figured out, Buck. Don't worry, sugar." Clint murmured as his eyes shut and sleep began to overtake him.

Another trend that developed was Clint meandering about the tower alone as Bucky spent more time with Steve. Clint fully supported Bucky reconnecting with his best friend, it just occasionally cut into his own time with Bucky which left him unsure what to do with himself. When there wasn’t missions and patrols and intel gathering to worry about, he found himself at a loss, trying to remember what he had done with his time before Bucky came into his life. It felt like years rather than weeks since Bucky’d kissed him for the first time in the kitchen.

If he was being honest, his newfound relationship with Bucky had caused him to ditch Natasha a time or two, as well. So one of the first things he did was try to make up for that. If Natasha was a bit confused at the attention Clint had returned to her, she didn’t say anything about it. Just rolled her eyes every time he dragged her out for lunch or insisted on some extra sparring time. But she did that before, too, so it was really nothing new. Anyone who didn’t know Natasha would probably think she really disliked Clint, but he knew rolling her eyes was the closest she got to saying “I love you.”

A few days after the “going steady” conversation, however, Clint found himself alone in his apartment, flipping through TV channels. Bucky was with Steve. Natasha was on a mission with Sam and Maria. And he had already spent more than his usual amount of time on the shooting range. He sighed and flopped down so he was fully laid out on the couch, missing Bucky’s warmth behind him.

He was just considering going on patrol around the city, or possibly just trying to get some sleep since it was already late when JARVIS said, “My apologies for interrupting, Agent Barton, but there is something I think you would like to see.”

He sat up quickly and said, “Go ahead, JARVIS.”

A video of Steve’s apartment popped up on the TV screen. Steve was crouched in front of a terrified looking Bucky, reaching out towards him and attempting to calm him, but clearly having no success.

“This has been going on for almost forty five minutes, sir,” JARVIS informed him.

“Fuck.” Clint jumped up and headed quickly out the door, saying, “Get me an elevator, JARVIS.”

An elevator opened just as he approached and he hurried inside, the doors shutting as soon as he was in. He had no idea if he was going to be able to help at all. This may just be one of the bad flashbacks that he couldn’t be brought out of, but there was no way in hell Clint wasn’t at least going to try.

When the doors opened again, Clint ran to the door of Steve’s apartment, knocking loudly. He reset his face into a neutral expression, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and leaned back on his heels, trying to appear as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

When Steve opened the door, he said, “Hey, Steve, do you have any…”

Then he pretended to notice the haggard look on the Captain’s face for the first time and glanced past him to see Bucky huddled in the corner. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and asked, “Everything okay here?”

Steve shook his head, but shrugged. “This happens. I don’t know how to help him. Sometimes it can last for hours.”

Clint studied Bucky for a second, pretending to analyze the situation. “Mind if I try?”

Steve shrugged again. “I suppose so. Just be careful. He lashes out when he’s scared and he’s really vulnerable to everything right now.”

Clint nodded as if he didn’t already know those things and replied, “Why don’t you wait over here? Probably wouldn’t help to have too many people around if it makes him feel trapped.”

With Steve’s nod of agreement, Clint moved slowly towards Bucky’s huddled form on the far side of the living room. He didn’t say anything until he was settled on the ground a couple feet away from Bucky and purposefully blocked Steve’s view of Bucky with his body, so that the Captain wouldn’t see the practiced way he handled it.

“Hey, Barnes. It’s Clint.” He kept his tone almost overly detached for Steve’s benefit, having no idea how far Steve’s enhanced hearing could stretch. As far as he knew, Steve had no idea Clint and Bucky were even friends, much less more than that. “How ya’ doing, buddy?”

Bucky whimpered and curled in on himself tighter, rocking back and forth slightly. Clint continued to talk to him softly for a few minutes before reaching his hand out towards him. Bucky eyed the hand with fear plain on his face, but didn’t pull away as Clint tapped his wrist.

It only took a few more minutes to bring Bucky back to reality after that, but when Bucky latched onto his shirt, Clint pulled away.

“Hey, Steve,” Clint called, his focus still locked on Bucky. Understanding flashed in Bucky’s eyes after a moment and he released Clint, letting his head fall back against the wall and trying to stop the sobs that were shuddering through his body. Clint desperately wanted to hold him and comfort him, but instead, he stood up.

“How’d you do that?” Steve asked as he approached, his surprise clearly evident and understandable given his inaccurate knowledge of Clint and Bucky’s relationship.

Clint shrugged nonchalantly. “Sometimes it takes a new voice, I guess. I think he was coming out of it anyway.”

Steve looked at him disbelievingly, but before he could say anything, Clint continued, “I was thinking it might be good to get him out of the apartment. Sometimes with flashbacks like these, getting out of the environment you had it in can help.”

“I’m supposed to meet with Jemma in ten minutes,” Steve said, looking at his watch. “But I’ll reschedule.”

“No,” Clint cut in as Steve pulled his phone from his pocket. “You go meet with Dr. Simmons. I’ll walk around with Barnes. I don’t have anything better to do.”

He shrugged as if in boredom to punctuate the offer. Every instinct he had was telling him to go back to Bucky and take care of him, but he was pushing it down as best he could. This was not the right moment for Steve to find out about them.

Raising his eyebrows, Steve asked, “Are you sure? Jemma won’t mind…”

“I’m sure,” Clint insisted without letting him finish. “The sooner we know what’s up with those vials we pulled from the base the better.”

Clint had a feeling that the captain was not going to meet with the good doctor at almost ten-o-clock at night to discuss the vials, but he decided to let it slide. It was more important to him in that moment to get Bucky out of there than to pry into Steve’s love life. Not that he wouldn’t do that later.

Steve nodded. “Okay…just, um, let me know…you know, if you need help or anything.”

“Don’t worry,” Clint said as he moved back to Bucky and helped him up with one hand. “We’ll be just fine. Won’t we, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded weakly, his hand clutching the back of Clint’s shirt where Steve couldn’t see it. “Go ahead, Stevie.”

Steve hesitated a bit more, but followed when Clint began to lead Bucky out the door. They separated at the elevators with Clint making a show of saying that maybe they would go to the roof and hang out up there just so they could get on an elevator going in a direction opposite to the way Steve was going. Though both Bucky and Clint knew exactly where they were going.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Bucky fell into Clint’s arms, the sobs he had been holding off for Steve’s sake shaking his entire body. Relief flooded Clint as he gave into his instincts for taking care of Bucky.

“JARVIS, take us to my floor,” Clint said as he rubbed Bucky’s back soothingly. Once the elevator started moving, he began whispering reassurances into Bucky’s ear.

Hours later, Clint was trying to fight off sleep as it crept into the early hours of the morning. They had done their usual routine of watching a movie once Bucky had gotten control of himself again and apologized over and over again as he always did. Clint was just glad he’d been able to pull him out of it. His whole body had gone cold when JARVIS had pulled up the footage of Steve’s apartment. And to find out the attack had lasted so long without Clint being there to help had terrified him and made him wonder how many flashbacks had been waited out without JARVIS telling him about it. He was definitely going to talk to JARVIS about the correct protocols for the next time Bucky had an attack when he wasn’t around. There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen again. Even if it meant Steve finding out about them.

“What d’you wanna watch next?” Clint asked drowsily, his vision so blurry that he could barely even see the TV screen.

He felt Bucky kiss his cheek before saying, “Go to sleep, Clint.”

Clint tried to protest, but he was quickly losing the battle. He kept falling asleep when he was supposed to be taking care of Bucky. It made him feel like a bad…boyfriend. He guessed. They hadn’t discussed labels exactly beyond the “going steady” aspect and he had to admit that he didn’t really know what the term entailed from a historical perspective. Whatever. It made him feel like a bad boyfriend.

Bucky settled back down onto the couch next to him, and just before Clint fell asleep he heard the other man whisper, “I love you.”

He was too far gone to even be surprised by the declaration. Clint tried to say it back, but couldn’t manage it through the haze of sleep. He was pretty sure Bucky thought he was already asleep and hadn’t heard it anyway.

 _I’ll tell him tomorrow,_ Clint thought before drifting off completely.

But, of course, tomorrow started only a few hours later with flashing lights and the low, pulsing alarm of the Avengers signal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a cliffhanger there!  
> Only two chapters left. Or possibly one very long chapter if I decide to post it all at once. But that would be a very very long chapter. The next one will probably mostly be from Bucky's perspective.  
> Anyway, I hope you liked it and want to keep reading!


	5. Charges Are Set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wrote this chapter way faster than I thought I would.   
> It's basically all action. Very little fluff. But the next chapter will be basically all fluff.  
> Definitely some feels though.

Clint and Bucky scrambled up from the couch as soon as JARVIS informed them that the mission was Hydra related and that both of them were being summoned. Before Bucky rushed out of the apartment, he pulled Clint into an earnest kiss, and they exchanged tense admonitions about being careful.

After changing quickly and grabbing his weapons from the locked box in his room, Bucky headed upstairs to the briefing room. Steve's door was open and the room was empty, so Bucky assumed he had already gone upstairs.

He ran into Sam and Natasha in the elevator and the three of them were the last to arrive. Banner and Simmons were going on about formulas and Tony kept talking to JARVIS about decryption and programming. Everyone else was staring at each other blankly. Well, Natasha was smirking, but Natasha always smirked. That’s why it seemed like she always knew more than everyone is the room. Finally, Clint cleared his throat from where he was perched on a small table in the back corner of the room and said, "In plain English, please. Not all of us have PhDs."

Simmons cleared her throat. "A few nights ago some tests I had been running confirmed that the serum in the vials had been distilled from samples of Sergeant Barnes blood."

Bucky wasn't surprised. Knowing what they had been trying to do at that base, it made sense. And Steve had confirmed for him a week or so ago that the liquid in the vials appeared to be some variation of the super soldier serum, though at that point Simmons hadn't yet puzzled out the full formula.

"As far as I can tell, though I don't claim to be an expert in the particular subject," Simmons continued. "The formula as it is in the vials we captured would not be successful in turning anyone into a super soldier."

That also didn't surprise Bucky. If the serum had worked, they would've run into a whole bunch more trouble in the base they had found the vials in.

"And then this morning," Banner took over, pulling up a long block of text on the screen. "JARVIS intercepted and decrypted a Hydra communication which contained information about the development of a formula similar, but not quite the same as the formula Dr. Simmons has been working with."

"They seem to think it could be ready to mass produce for their commandos within a month," Tony interjected.

"But if they're ready to mass produce, then they must've already tested it on some," Natasha said.

"And been successful." Clint's voice was grave.

Bucky's fist clenched as understanding looks were passed around the table.

"Do we know where they're doing the experiments now that the other base was shut down?" Steve asked, mind clearly now set on the mission. There was no way they could let Hydra mass produce super soldiers.

"Yes, we do." Tony pressed a few things on the screen and a map appeared on the large monitor, a large red dot glowing somewhere in the Rockies from what Bucky could tell. "JARVIS was able to trace the origin of the transmission back to this location. Satellite scans of the area show unusual amounts of air traffic around the mountain as well, and the readings of the mountains structure indicate something built within it."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" Bucky growled.

"Director Coulson is already in the area. He's doing a more thorough assessment and is going to call us when it's complete." Simmons didn't back down from Bucky's harsh look as she spoke and his already high respect for her went up a notch. Not even Steve could hold his gaze when he got angry sometimes. He hadn’t really meant to stare at her that intensely anyway. She didn’t do anything wrong. She had just chosen a moment to speak in which he hadn’t been in complete control of his reactions.

The idea that Hydra might have a working serum was just seriously setting him on edge.

"Speak of the devil..." Tony said as he opened a video stream from Coulson.

"The area is heavily fortified," Coulson said immediately when he appeared on screen, his hands folded in front of him and an intimidating looking Asian woman standing behind him. Bucky appreciated that the man didn’t waste any time. "Though there doesn't seem to be much sign of activity. The scans show very few people, but my engineer says it could be the mountain interfering. My recommendation: bring the mountain down on top of them."

An accented voice came from off screen then, "Sir, if I may, I've been running more tests..."

Coulson nodded and stood, making room for a small man with curly blonde hair to move in front of the camera. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Hi, Fitz!" Simmons said excitedly, waving at the man on screen.

"Hullo, Jemma," he responded fondly before holding up a screen that showed the mountain and a bunch of calculations. Tony stepped up to get a better look. "It's beginning to look like bringing the mountain down from the outside, even with the Avengers firepower, would be very nearly impossible without starting a chain reaction through the entire range. However," he fiddled with his screen so that it changed to show the mountain from another angle. Tony was nodding, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Bucky had no idea what the hell he was looking at.

"Bring it down from the inside," Tony said thoughtfully before Fitz could.

"Precisely," Fitz responded, excitedly. "The charges would have to be strategically placed, but you could get the mountain to implode so that the rest of the range wouldn't be disturbed."

"So we get in, separate into teams to place the charges, and get out, setting it all off once we're clear," Steve interjected from where he sat to Bucky's left.

"What kind of charges are you thinking?" Tony asked Fitz. "We need something around the perimeter that will stabilize the mountain, keep it contained..."

The conversation from there devolved into discussions of bomb compositions and something about electromagnetic fields that Bucky couldn't follow. He pulled one of the knives from his thigh holster and twirled it in his fingers nervously. They were wasting so much time.

He couldn't let this happen. There were already too many damned super soldiers in the world. His breathing quickly grew strained as he considered the potential damage a super soldier army could cause. A super soldier army controlled by Hydra. And it would all be from his blood. It’d all be his fault.

Suddenly, he felt Clint's presence behind him. The archer placed a hand on the back of Bucky's chair and one hand on the back of Natasha's chair who was sitting on Bucky's right side. Clint leaned down to say something to her, but his fingers brushed across the back of Bucky's shoulder. It was only a little touch, but Bucky focused on it and used it to ground himself and push back the growing panic and restlessness. It kind of worked. Everyone else was crowded around the table, trying to keep up with Tony and Fitz so nobody noticed Clint's actions.

The fingers were removed when Clint finished his discussion with Natasha and stood up, crossing his arms over his chest, but not moving back to his original perch.

"How long until everything's ready to go, Tony?" Clint asked, clearly done with the techno babble still happening at the front of the room.

"JARVIS?" Tony asked.

"Thirty minutes maximum, sir, based on what you and Dr. Fitz have been discussing," JARVIS replied.

"I'll go prep the quinjet then," Clint said. "Barnes, why don't you come along before that knife of yours goes through the table."

Everyone's eyes went to the blade Bucky had been twirling in his hand in surprise. He re-holstered it quickly and stood, not meeting anyone's gaze as he followed Clint out of the room.

Once they reached the quinjet platform, Clint began the pre-flight check and said, "You've got to calm down. I know this is important to you. But you can't lose your cool, can't let it distract you."

Bucky made a frustrated noise as his fists clenched and unclenched and clenched again. He knew Clint was right, but had no idea how to shut it off. When he was the Winter Soldier, he'd been completely emotionless, completely in control all the time. Now, he felt like he was going to burst with everything that was running through his head.

If he was being completely honest, the main emotion he was feeling was terror. Not about the mission, but about what could happen if the mission failed. How much death and destruction would be his fault if they didn’t stop Hydra from distributing that serum. How much more blood would be on his hands.

Clint stepped up in front of him, seeing his panic and abandoning his flight check for a moment. He grabbed Bucky's fist and tapped his fingers to the metal wrist gently, but his face was hard when he said, "Get your shit together, Barnes. Because if you make some rookie mistake 'cause your head's all over the place and get seriously injured or killed, I swear to god, I will never forgive you."

Bucky nodded hesitantly once, and then again, more forcefully. He took a few deep breaths after Clint released his arm and went back to working on the jet. Clint was right. He couldn't go into the mission like this.

Taking a seat inside the quinjet, Bucky dropped his head into his hands and tried to focus on his breathing the way he'd seen Banner doing in stressful situations. Taking purposeful breaths and forcing his heart rate down, he slowly began to relax, trying to focus on the logistics of the mission rather than his personal vendetta. Looking at it analytically rather than emotionally. The storm inside his head ebbed away more and more the longer he sat there and focused.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he felt two hands settle on his knees. Clint was crouched in front of him and when Bucky looked up, he smiled lightly, pulling one of Bucky's hands from his face and pressing a kiss to the palm.

"I know you can do this, Buck," he said and gently squeezed the hand he was holding with his own. "You're so strong and you're not going to let those Hydra sons of bitches control you."

Bucky nodded, returning the hand squeeze and tapping Clint’s wrist.

"Everyone's on their way up," he continued as he stood, pulling Bucky up with him, apparently satisfied that Bucky wasn’t going to self-destruct. "Tony and Steve are going to explain the plan once we're in the air."

 

It was a pretty simple plan, Bucky thought. Tony, Thor, and Sam would fly around the way they did and place the charges around the perimeter of the mountain. Clint, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky would get inside by whatever means necessary. Steve and Bucky would head for the center of the mountain while Natasha and Clint took a circular route around the base, setting their charges in line with the ones being placed on the outside of the mountain. Banner would stay in the quinjet unless he was needed. There was no guarantee they could keep the Hulk from bringing the mountain down around their heads, so better to keep that as a last resort. Banner didn’t look like he minded being left out of the fight this time.

Then they blow the whole damn thing to kingdom come. Bucky liked that part of the plan the best.

But Bucky’s internal warning alarms started going off almost immediately as they got close to the base, telling him something wasn’t right, and he could tell other people were feeling the same way. Their approach in the quinjet was met with barely any resistance and they landed pretty easily. Thor, Tony, and Sam took out their guns in a matter of minutes and Natasha was able to hack her way into the doors in not much longer than that. Once the four of them were inside, they were met with a decent amount of guards, but those were dealt with rather quickly. After that first wave, they only found groups of stragglers here and there that were barely worth wasting ammunition on.

The base was rather depressing on the inside generally, but didn’t trigger any memories for Bucky. The walls were half rock from the mountain and half concrete molded together in jagged formations. There were no windows at all so everything felt artificial and confining. Lights flickered ominously and it was unnervingly quiet for a base being attacked. The whole place gave Bucky the creeps and it didn’t get better as he and Steve made their way towards the center.

"Outside charges are set," Tony's voice came over comms just as Bucky and Steve were setting the last of theirs. There had been a few more guards, but the place was mostly deserted. "Is anyone else wondering what the hell is going on?"

"Can the three of you rendezvous with us inside?" Steve responded, ignoring his question. "They may've been in the process of abandoning this base, but maybe we can salvage some information from the labs."

"Roger that, Cap. We're on our way."

"Perimeter charges set," Natasha said. "Headed to your location."

Steve and Bucky had already passed the labs on their way to the center of the base, so they made quick time getting back to them. When Tony arrived with Sam and Thor not far behind, he immediately stepped out of his suit and made his way to one of the computers, instructing JARVIS to download everything the computers had.

"Sir, all the data files are corrupted," JARVIS said after a minute. "I'm not sure there's anything we can use here."

"Download it anyway, J. We'll see what we can do with it back at the tower."

"We found files," Clint's voice said over comms. "Like physical files. Looks like test subjects."

"Rumlow's got a file, Cap," Natasha added.

"Rumlow?" Steve sounded shocked.

"I know that name," Bucky said. "I think I worked with him sometimes."

Steve nodded. "We know he was Hydra. We didn't know he was enhanced. He was supposed to have died when the Triskelion collapsed. But if he was enhanced..."

“No way he could’ve survived that building coming down on him,” Sam interjected, shaking his head forcefully.

"Where are you?" Steve asked Natasha and Clint. "We'll come to you."

"A couple hallways over. Group of offices..."

An explosion set the whole mountain rocking.

"What the hell was that?" Steve demanded.

"One of the outside charges went off," Banner’s voice crackled from the quinjet. "I didn't press anything, it just went off on its own."

Another explosion, this one much closer to them. Bucky could hear the rock above their heads cracking and straining.

"We gotta get out of here," Bucky said, heading for the door. "Now."

Tony was already climbing back into his suit, and Natasha and Clint came careening around the corner at the same time.

"What the hell is going on?" Clint called to him.

"We're getting out before this whole damn mountain comes down," Bucky growled in response. He fought the urge to throw Clint over his shoulder and hightail it to the exit. Clint would definitely never forgive him for that.

Another explosion had debris raining down on them heavily. They all exchanged a few surprised and worried glances before they simultaneously took off running for the door they had come in.

"Banner, can you stop these things from going off?" Steve asked as they ran.

"Everything here says it's all normal," he responded. "I don't know how to fix something that's not broken."

“It’s a goddamn trap,” Bucky murmured, feeling his rage building. He desperately wished for another guard to take it out on.

Just then glass doors started sliding shut behind them. Some kind of internal lockdown sequence it seemed like.

"We gotta move faster!" Bucky yelled as another explosion went off and the doors shutting got closer. He was in the front with Steve; Tony flying along ahead of them.  
The explosions were getting closer and the amount of dust and debris in the air was getting thicker. A few more guards appeared out of nowhere from behind them then, but were taken care of quickly by Clint and Natasha.

Another, larger group were farther down the hall and taking wild shots at the team. An explosion almost threw Bucky off his feet and he could see the smoke from it not far down the hallway. Clint pushed Natasha along as he turned back, leveling some kind of trick arrow at the group.

As soon as he let the arrow fly, he turned towards them and started running again but Bucky watched in horror as one of the glass doors snapped shut in front of him. Clint skidded to a halt behind it, his eyes searching for a control panel of some sort, but without success. Because the panel was on their side of the door.

"No!" Bucky roared and forced his way to the door through the team, swinging his metal fist at full strength. The glass—or whatever it actually was because normal glass wouldn't be able to hold up to that—didn’t even crack. Tony landed beside him and plugged into the control panel, trying to override its lockdown. Bucky stared at Clint on the other side of the door.

Another explosion even closer this time. Bucky knew exactly where he and Steve had placed the charges and if these things were going off in order as they seemed to be...

Bucky slammed his fist against the glass again, but with no more success.

When his eyes met Clint's again, the archer smiled a bit as if he wasn't trapped in an area that was about to go boom. Bucky watched as he lifted one hand, his middle and ring fingers folded against his palm, and his lips formed the words "I love you, Bucky."

Then he crouched down, making himself small to limit the impact and turning his side to the door, and waited for the explosion.

"Get this fucking door open, Stark!" Steve yelled from somewhere beside him. He couldn't even focus on anything. His chest was collapsing, his heart was giving out, his vision blocked out everything except Clint.

"It's not responding to anything I do!" Tony yelled back.

Bucky watched as Clint's body was thrown against the wall with the force of the explosion, smoke and debris filling the area behind the glass door. He was barely able to keep on his own feet as the mountain rocked under him.

Tony, still in his suit, reached out and pulled the control panel off the wall in desperation, snapping a few wires behind it once it was out of the way. The whole system sizzled and sputtered, then the door slid open in one quick whoosh.

Bucky ran into the smoke, ignoring the heat from the explosion and the fires still going only a few feet away. Dropping to his knees next to Clint, he could just make out through the haze the blood and burned skin that covered Clint. He hastily patted out a portion of Clint's pants that had been burned through and was still smoldering. Then he carefully pushed his fingers to Clint's neck on the side that wasn’t burned, finding the pulse point and letting out a relieved sob when he felt the beating.

Suddenly Tony was there, pulling Clint out of his arms.

"If we don't get going, we're all going to be way worse than this in a minute," he said before taking off with Clint. Thor grabbed hold of Natasha and flew off after him as Steve grabbed a hold of Bucky's arm and pulled him along.

Bucky's eyes followed Tony's quick progress down the narrow hallway as he ran beside Steve, their enhanced leg muscles working double time. Steve had sent Sam along ahead to tell Banner to get ready to care for Clint's injuries as the explosions seemed to be interfering with their comms. So Steve and Bucky were in the back now, listening to the intermittent explosions just behind them.

Whatever Tony had done to the door had stopped all of them from shutting so the only thing they had to worry about was not getting blown up.

But Bucky wasn't even thinking about that. His body was moving on pure instinct. He had no control over it. All he could see was Clint's body getting thrown against the wall.  It played in his mind over and over again. And all he could feel was terror as he watched it.

It wasn't until they reached the quinjet that Bucky felt like he could breathe again. Although that might've had something to do with the amount of smoke and dust he had been inhaling while inside the mountain. Natasha and Sam were wearing oxygen masks. Even Steve was breathing hard.

Bucky froze as soon as he saw Clint laid out on a cot inside the quinjet. It had looked bad through the thick smoke, but it looked even worse without it.

The half of Clint's body that had been turned away from the glass door was covered in angry looking burns and there was blood gushing from a tear in his pants leg. A leg which also happened to be twisted at an incredibly painful looking angle. There was another gash on his forehead and blood running from his nose and mouth. And everything was dirty, covered in soot and dust.

Bucky didn't move as Stark launched the plane, didn't even look when the mountain imploded behind them, didn't hear when Steve offered him something to eat. He couldn't take his eyes off of Clint. His whole body shook as he watched Dr. Banner work, Simmons on a screen to one side helping as much as she could and finding out what she needed to be ready for when they got back to the tower.

Eventually, Steve roughly pushed him into a chair and basically forced some water down his throat.

He only snapped back to reality when he realized Banner was giving Steve a report of Clint's injuries.

"They're all superficial, it seems. He may have a concussion, but his organs are fine from what I can tell right now. Simmons will be able to confirm that. Now that I've got all the major bleeding stopped, it's just a matter of setting the leg and taking care of the burns over the next few weeks. There'll be some scaring on his left arm and his neck from the burns and the leg will need a lot of rehab."

"But he's going to be fine?" Steve asked, cutting off the litany.

“In quite a bit of pain for a while, but yes," the doctor responded, his eyes landing on Bucky for just a moment before returning to Steve.

Bucky dropped his head into his hands, trying to push back relieved tears at the doctor's words. He was never letting Clint out of his sight again. Never letting him get more than an arm’s length away.

Someone sat down next to him and took one of his hands into smaller, softer ones. Natasha smiled at him despite the tears running down her cheeks and pulled his head down against her shoulder, holding him gently as they both cried.

 

They wouldn't let him in the room while Simmons worked. Bucky and Natasha paced outside the doorway for almost an hour before Banner came out to confirm everything he had said before.

"We're going to move him to one of the medical rooms and keep him sedated for at least a few days," Bruce said, not needing to mention how much pain Clint would be in if they did let him wake up. "His leg has multiple breaks, but we've set it and hopefully with physical therapy there won't be any long term effects."

Bucky faltered a bit at that. "Hopefully?"

Banner grimaced a bit, not wanting to deliver bad news. "Some people have a limp for the rest of their lives with breaks like that. But we've got a state of the art facility and Tony can bring in any and all experts Barton needs. Also, he's tough. You know he won't be satisfied until he's good as new."

Bucky had to smile a bit at that. He was right. Clint wouldn't be happy until he was flipping around the training rooms again.

"So when can we see him?" Natasha asked.

"Once we've got him set up in a room, you can sit with him," he told them. "Dr. Simmons will be able to answer any more questions you have then, too."

"Thanks, Bruce," Natasha said with a kind smile as Bucky sighed in relief again.

Steve had been there the whole time too, standing off to the side watching Bucky pace. He didn't say anything. He was there for support, but he was also waiting. For Bucky to explain. To admit to what had been going on. To come clean.

Bucky didn't even know how to start that conversation.

Once Bruce went back to help Simmons, Steve stepped up next to him and said, "Buck, you should go wash off, change, get some food. You can come back once they've got everything set up."

Bucky hesitated. He wanted to see him the second Dr. Simmons gave the okay.

"You heard Dr. Banner," Steve continued, seeing his hesitation. "He's going to be sedated for a few days. You can come sit with him after you've cleaned off. There’s nothing you can do for him while he’s out."

Bucky looked at Steve and back at the closed door.

"He would want you to take care of yourself."

Bucky sighed, knowing Steve was right. Clint would probably laugh at how ridiculous he was being. Wanting to sit by his bed when there wasn't even a chance of him waking up.

Bucky turned and nodded at Steve, following him to the elevators.

Steve didn't say anything when they were in the elevator, but the silence was heavy, loaded. Bucky leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, cursing this day into oblivion.

Steve didn't say anything when they got into the apartment. Bucky went and took a shower, wiping away the layers of dust that had accumulated and washing out the smell of smoke as best he could.

When he was dressed in clean clothes, he braced himself for the conversation that was coming and made his way back into the living room.

Steve was waiting for him with a sandwich and a couple bottles of water. Bucky couldn't even meet his eyes, so instead he stared at the sandwich, trying to think of something to say first. Luckily, Steve did it for him.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Bucky responded immediately and then shrugged helplessly. "I just...I had some things to figure out."

"How long?"

Well, that was a complicated question, Bucky thought. Technically, it had barely been a month since they acknowledged their feelings for each other. But it had been building for a lot longer than that.

"Neither of us slept much," Bucky started. "So we started watching movies together late at night about a week after I got here. We...it was a progression. He helped me feel not so lost. Not so…confused."

Steve was studying him intently. Bucky could feel the watchful eyes even though he still hadn't been able to meet the gaze.

"We were both dealing with things," Bucky continued. "It's hard to explain, Stevie. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Because you thought I wouldn't accept you?" Steve looked sad, disappointed when Bucky finally met his eyes.

"That thought never crossed my mind," Bucky responded honestly.

"Good." Steve nodded. "I love you, Buck. No matter what."

"I know, Stevie." Bucky smiled weakly. "You mad at me?"

Steve sighed. "No, Buck, I'm not mad. I'm glad you had someone to help you deal with everything." He reached out and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "But I wish you woulda told me. I might've worried about you less."

Bucky winced guiltily. He hadn't really thought about it like that. Steve just pulled him into a tight hug so he didn't have to say anything else.

After Steve stepped back and downed one of the water bottles, Bucky asked, "Do we know what the hell happened today?"

Steve shook his head sadly. "It was a trap, obviously. I don't know how they managed to set off our charges, though. Stark's looking into it."

"We should've waited," Bucky said, all of the grief coming back to him. He watched again in his mind as Clint was thrown against the wall of the base. "We should've gotten more intel or...seen it coming...seen the signs earlier...listened to my goddamn instincts when we were flying up."

"Yeah," Steve said. "We should've done a lot of things differently. We're lucky we're not all dead right now. But you can't change what happened, Buck. No point in dwelling on it. Just focus on helping him get better."

Bucky nodded, swallowing thickly and grabbing a water bottle to wet his suddenly dry throat. "You think there really is a working super soldier serum?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know. But we'll find out. If there is, I won't rest until it's destroyed."

"You and me both, Stevie,” Bucky said, fighting the urge to put his fist through the granite countertop. There would be hell to pay for what they had done to Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woahhhh didn't see that coming, did'ya?  
> Poor Clint :(   
> I'm hoping to have the last chapter up this weekend sometime.  
> And I think I'm going to add an epilogue after that. I've got one planned in my mind, at least.  
> Comments are always appreciated!


	6. I love you too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I got so many great comments on the last chapter that I decided to post this one a bit earlier than planned.  
> I'm definitely going to do a short epilogue within the next few days that will be super fluffy and adorable. Like super fluffy. All the fluff. It's going to be fantastic.  
> Anyway, I hope you like this one!

They ended up keeping him sedated for almost a week. Just to save him the pain of waking up with half his body burned and the other half broken for that little bit of time. As much as Bucky wanted to see him awake and talking and smiling again, he couldn’t really begrudge him that little reprieve. He hated the idea of Clint being in that much pain. A big bruise on his side after that first mission had been enough to drive Bucky crazy. This was almost too much.

When Bucky went to Clint’s room on the medical level that first day after talking to Steve, Natasha was already there, clean and in non-mission clothes, lounging silently in an uncomfortable looking chair as the machines and monitors beeped continuously around her. Bucky sat down on the opposite side of the bed without a word, pulling his chair close and taking Clint's hand—since Natasha has given him the side without the burns—lightly in his own.

They sat in companionable silence for almost an hour before Bucky finally asked, "did you know?"

The corner of Natasha's mouth twitched up. "What kind of spy would I be if I didn't?"

But her face was unsure, her eyebrows pulled in just a bit in contemplation. Almost as if she was trying to decide if she was telling the truth.

"I knew...something," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "I didn't realize how far it had gone, I guess."

Bucky nodded in understanding. The level of attachment that had grown between them in a relatively short amount of time was a bit unprecedented for two people who didn't trust easily. Clint had told him that it had taken years of working on the same team together before he and Natasha had really started to trust each other. Bucky had expected to never trust anyone but Steve for the rest of his life.

"I could tell it was helping, though," Natasha volunteered to Bucky's surprise. He had never taken her as the type to offer information of her own volition. "I could tell that whatever was going on with you two, it made him happy."

"So you decided not to pry?" It wasn't really a question. Bucky knew how much Natasha cared about Clint and knew that she would've seen how strained everything he did was after the Battle of New York. That would’ve been motivation enough for him if he was in her place to leave it alone.

Natasha shrugged lightly, her lips curving up again.

"You trusted me?" Bucky asked. That was a real question. He knew Steve trusted him. He knew Clint trusted him. He hadn’t really given anyone else a reason to trust. And it seemed unlikely that out of everyone the Black Widow would’ve afforded him—the Winter Soldier—that honor. She knew what he was and what he had done better than anyone else on the team.

Natasha shifted her gaze back to Clint's still form on the bed. "I trust Clint. And he trusts you." She paused for a moment considering her words, knowing she hadn't really answered his question. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt."

Bucky nodded again, but didn't respond. The benefit of the doubt was more than he would've asked for from her. More than he had given her in the beginning, if he was being completely honest. He knew that he and Natasha actually had the most in common when it came to outlook and history than anyone else in the tower. Knew that she would’ve been just as wary of him as he was of her had she not picked up on the relationship between him and Clint.

He realized that in a way, he had actually done the same with her. It was perhaps a less conscious decision on his part than it seemed to have been on hers, but once he decided he trusted Clint—which was as natural to him as breathing—trusting her, at least to a certain extent, came with the package.

"I thought he was just growing his collection of enemy assassins turned friends," she said, a real, affectionate smile on her face now as she looked at Clint. Bucky smiled too, his grip on Clint's hand tightening momentarily. She flicked her gaze to Bucky. "I figured if he could save me, he could do it for you too. I guess that's what I trusted."

"When I first showed up here, I never would've expected..." He didn't know how to finish that so he just let his eyes settle on Clint again. Finally, he said, “I just came for Steve, you know? This was never part of the plan.”

"Barton doesn't play by normal rules. He makes everyone else play by his," Natasha responded. Bucky couldn't disagree with that. Not based on his own experience at least. Clint had completely dismantled his rule book. “Drove everyone at SHIELD crazy for a while. Until Coulson finally just let him run his own missions.”

“That’s what makes the two of you such a good team,” Bucky added.

“Part of it,” she agreed. “Once SHIELD decided they really could trust me, they made us work together. I was more controlled. Followed orders without question. Never made the emotional decision. Always put the mission first. It made them feel better about sending him out when I was with him. They knew I would always tell them exactly what happened on missions if I was ordered to.” She paused, head cocked to the side with that signature smirk on her face. “I don’t think he ever submitted a full report of what happened when he was sent to kill me.”

“And you didn’t either?”

She flashed him a smile. “I wasn’t a SHIELD agent yet. Didn’t have to.”

Bucky grinned back. He firmly believed there were always ways to skirt the rules without openly defying them. Had believed that since before the war. Way before the Winter Soldier. Another way he and Natasha were alike. Clint just preferred to pick and choose which rules he wanted to follow.

"Do you love him?" She asked suddenly, her eyes boring into the side of Bucky's head where he had turned back to look at Clint.

"Yes," Bucky told her honestly.

"Good." She settled back in her chair, satisfied.

They barely talked for the rest of the week that they waited. Except that Natasha began teaching him sign language which he realized was way overdue. The better he got at it—though it was a slow process—the less they needed to talk which suited them both fine. And it drove Tony crazy whenever he came to visit which was a bonus.

Sometimes Steve would sit with them, but he was much more fidgety than the two assassins and could never sit still for too long. Especially not with the silence and the beeping. Simmons was always in and out and Sam would show every once in a while to try to do counseling sessions which only earned him blank looks and teasing smirks. Eventually, he gave up. Sam was a good guy. He was just barking up the wrong tree if he wanted Bucky and Natasha to talk about their feelings.

But mostly it was just Natasha and Bucky. He liked that it wasn’t just him. Being alone with his thoughts was still a scary thing, but as long as Natasha was there, he didn’t feel like he had to dwell on them. Their silences never seemed very quiet.

They barely left the room except to eat and use the restroom. And sometimes not to eat. A hard, uncomfortable couch was pushed against one wall and they took turns sleeping on it. They'd both slept on worse.

Steve had protested loudly when he realized what they were doing, but was entirely unsuccessful at deterring them. They would sleep on rock and concrete for the man lying in the hospital bed.

Steve finally shut up when Bucky told him that he'd do the same thing if it was Steve in the bed.

The mission had been on a Tuesday.

On Friday, Thor and Iron Man intercepted a Hydra transport that was carrying a couple cases of a purplish liquid. Dr. Simmons was unable to confirm whether or not it would successfully turn anyone into a super soldier, but she did definitively say that it was not derived from Bucky's blood which alleviated the tiniest fraction of his guilt if it turned out to really be a working serum.

On Tuesday, they took Clint off the anesthesia. Bucky was equally excited for Clint to wake up as he was worried about how much pain Clint would be in once he did. But Simmons and the other doctors insisted that they couldn't put off waking him up any longer because they needed to confirm the extent of his head injuries.

On Wednesday, almost 12 hours after they stopped drugging him, Clint woke up. It was 3am and Bucky was falling asleep even though he was seated in the hard, straight backed chair while Natasha was spread out on the couch when he felt a slight squeeze on his hand that was consistently folded into Clint's.

He jerked up in surprise to see the archer smiling weakly and watching him through half-lidded eyes. He pulled his hand away and, knowing they had taken out Clint's hearing aids, quickly signed, "How are you feeling?"

He saw the flash of surprise across Clint's face, but then he smirked and said hoarsely, "Like I got hit by a truck."

Bucky smiled, glad for the confirmation that Clint was definitely still Clint when he was injured, and helped him drink some water. When Clint had his fill and dropped his head back to the pillows, Bucky said, signing along as best he could in case Clint was too drowsy to read his lips, "I'm going to wake Natasha and then get a doctor."

"Wait," Clint said quickly, grabbing Bucky’s hand before he could walk away. "Kiss me."

"Clint..." Bucky started, not wanting to do anything that might aggravate his injuries even more.

"The rest of my body might be a complete shit show right now," Clint cut him off, sensing his hesitation even if he couldn’t hear it. "But my lips are fine as far as I can tell.

When Bucky still hesitated, he added, “Please."

Bucky eyed the bandages covering the burned flesh on the far side of Clint's head warily, but leaned down to brush his lips against the injured man's anyway. Because he really never stood a chance at saying no to anything Clint wanted. Not when he was just so thrilled to hear the man’s voice again. He felt Clint smile lightly against the kiss, and he let his hand run through the soft hair on his non-burned side. Slowly, he pulled back and lifted his flesh hand in the air just high enough so Clint could see it, his ring and middle fingers folded against his palm, and whispered, "I love you too."

Clint grinned up at him, though Bucky could tell that the width of the smile was pulling on the bandages and the burns underneath which had to be painful.

Bucky fought the urge to kiss him again—and also to cry because he was awake and not dead and Bucky finally got to say "I love you" back. His chest felt like it was going to burst open with all the emotion filling it. Instead of doing any of those things, he pulled away completely and turned, crouching in front of the couch. When he shook Natasha awake, he got the distinct impression that she'd only been pretending to sleep in order to give them a private moment. Which he very much so appreciated.

She moved to the side of the bed quickly, signing much more naturally and fluidly than anything Bucky had managed yet. He watched Natasha and Clint talking out of the corner of his eye as he pushed the button to call for whatever doctor was awake right then, not able to force the wide, happy grin from his face.

Banner showed up a few minutes later, dark circles under his eyes and his hair rumpled the way it gets when he hadn't slept in a while, and said, "I had JARVIS wake up Dr. Simmons, she's on her way."

Simmons arrived with Steve in tow to Bucky's surprise and delight. She moved by the bed where Banner was already asking Clint questions about how he felt and what he remembered while Steve moved over by Bucky and clapped him on the shoulder, smiling brightly.

"Guess you didn't need my help after all," Bucky whispered quietly enough that he knew no one but Steve would hear, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking suggestively at his friend.

Steve pinched Bucky's shoulder hard where his hand had been resting, making Bucky curse and everyone turn to look at him. He just grinned and motioned for them to continue what they were doing before elbowing Steve in the ribs.

Steve exhaled sharply then whispered back in a pained voice, "I'm not totally hopeless, jerk."

"Could've fooled me, punk." Bucky couldn't stop smiling.

Clint couldn't even stay awake long enough for Simmons and Banner to finish their examinations but no one was really surprised by that. His eyes had barely still been open when Banner had first arrived. Steve pulled both doctors out of the room after he fell unconscious. Apparently Bucky wasn't the only who noticed Banner's unkempt appearance because Steve insisted that the doctor go to his apartment and rest. Simmons only agreed to leave after getting Bucky to promise that she would be notified as soon as Clint woke back up. Natasha muttered something about showering and vacated the room too, telling him she would be back in a few hours.

Bucky settled back in his chair and covered Clint's hand with his again, kissing the back of it and smiling the whole time.

The next few weeks were an endless loop of doctors and treatments and examinations that Bucky couldn't keep up with. They had already done multiple surgeries on his leg so there were several doctors talking about the types of physical therapy Clint could try to get the leg back to full strength. Bucky just sat to the side and kept his eyes fixed on Clint, listening especially hard when the specialists told Clint what he was going to have to do to take care of himself until he was healed. Particularly when it came to the burns and the leg.

A South Korean woman named Dr. Cho came and did something that was supposed to help him regrow tissue over the burns. It was still in experimental stages so it didn't work 100% but it helped with some of the worst parts. Other parts were already scarring over after those first few weeks, particularly on his neck.

Some days were better than others when it came to the pain. Some days he was enveloped in such a haze of morphine that he could barely string two coherent words together. Bucky didn't care. Bucky only cared that he was alive.

He was a pretty terrible patient when he was coherent. Clint was never one to be okay with sitting still for very long and it only took about forty eight hours for him to start constantly complaining about boredom and begging to go outside. Wanting to do maintenance on his bow or wanting to talk to Tony about ideas he had for trick arrows. All of his doctors and nurses always left the room looking positively harassed.

After the weeks of sitting with Natasha, the amount of activity in the room along with Clint’s constantly running mouth was a bit overwhelming.

But Bucky loved it. Because it was that Clint sort of energy that had always pulled him in rather than freak him out.

Two weeks after he woke up, the rest of the team, with help from a new guy called Daredevil, took out a Hydra base where they were experimenting on humans. It wasn't a trap this time and they destroyed a large stash of the serum that seemed to work sometimes and not work sometimes. Or, at least, it looked like the same serum. Dr. Simmons was rather upset that they had blown it up rather than bringing it in to be analyzed.

Tony also managed to secure some very helpful files detailing the locations and specialties of other Hydra bases.

Bucky rushed back to Clint’s beside the second they landed. And spent the next several hours listening to him complain about not being able to go on the mission with his team.

Two weeks after that they let Clint move back up to his room. He was confined to a wheelchair which drove him even crazier than the bed, but Bucky could tell he liked being back in his apartment.

Bucky moved in with him. Someone needed to take care of him and now that the whole team knew about their relationship, it just made sense. There was plenty of teasing from Tony, but Bucky really didn't care about that. Everyone else seemed thrilled and fully supportive of them.

The biggest surprise was that the revelation of their relationship seemed to make the rest of the team less wary of Bucky. As if Clint’s stamp of approval was enough for the rest of them to approve too. Even Tony stopped be so suspicious and started being actually helpful, trying to think of ways to get the rest of his memories back and offering suggestions—and not just jokes—about improving his arm.

One day about a month after they moved Clint back upstairs, Bucky was feeling particularly fidgety and restless so Clint kicked him out and told him to go work it off in the gym for a while. He had physical therapy scheduled and then Natasha was going to come by so Bucky had a few hours to get it out of his system.

It didn’t happen often since Clint needed someone to help him pretty much all the time. Which he hated. But Bucky usually didn’t mind. Just everyone once in a while he would start feeling a bit confined by the apartment and need to get away. So he meant to take full advantage of the time to himself.

Three hours later, Bucky had just finished cooling down when JARVIS said, "Mr. Stark is insisting on a team movie watching party in the rec room in thirty minutes."

It was the first time in a while—since Tony had gotten that data on the Hydra bases really—that the whole team had been in the tower together for more than a few hours at a time.

Bucky showered quickly and made his way to the rec room, verifying with JARVIS that Nat had already taken Clint there. He was the last to arrive so the room was already pretty full, but he quickly noticed that a spot next to where Clint was set up on the couch had been left open. He paused and studied the open seat for a minute, suddenly struck with how much things had changed.

The last time they had had a team party Bucky hadn’t even wanted to go, but Steve dragged him along, saying he needed to bond with the rest of the team. Bucky and Clint hadn't even kissed yet, but even then it had felt strange to be in the rec room, watching a movie, and not sit next to Clint or listen to Clint talking to him. This time, though, he didn't have to feel weird. It was now acknowledged by the whole team that the spot next to Clint belonged to Bucky. It excited him as much as it scared him. There were so many reasons why he didn't deserve that seat.

After all this time, there was still a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t worth it. That he was going to screw it up. That Clint deserved someone better. It pestered him mercilessly.

He felt Clint's eyes on him and when he looked, the archer was smirking at him, a challenge in his eyes. Like he knew what Bucky was thinking. He always seemed to know what Bucky was thinking.

Bucky was never one to back down from a challenge.

He walked fully into the room and dropped a kiss onto the top of Clint's head before folding into the seat next to him. Their shoulders and thighs pushed together. A very clear statement to himself and anyone else who cared that there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Everyone in the room was deliberately not looking at them, but they all wore identically amused, indulgent smiles. Tony made a few obligatory teasing remarks because of the kiss, but then Pepper planted one on his cheek and he shut up.

Bucky wasn't listening anyway. He just took Clint's hand, tapped his fingers to the wrist twice, and then slid his hand up to intertwine their fingers tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sad this is pretty much over. I really love these two and love writing them.  
> Be sure to come back for the epilogue with all the fluff.  
> Meanwhile, leave me a comment and tell me what you think!  
> Thank you thank you thank you for all the love that this fic has gotten. I don't deserve you wonderful people!


	7. One Year Later (Epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the super fluffy epilogue as I promised!  
> I want to say thanks again for all the support this fic has gotten over the last few weeks! This is my first completed multi-chapter fic and that kind of feels like a big deal for me.  
> Anyway, y'all are awesome and I hope you like the epilogue.

Clint's head was resting on Bucky's chest and he was absentmindedly tracing shapes into his boyfriend's skin as Bucky dozed. It had been over a year since the accident that landed Clint on the disabled list for too damn long. Seriously, it had been absolutely ridiculous. All the coddling and annoying hovering.

But now things were back to normal. Clint was going on missions again, and he and Bucky were happy as clams living together in Avengers tower.

There were still tense moments. There was still occasional pain from the old injuries. There were still nightmares—though nowhere near as often for either of them. There was still Bucky's persistent nagging sense of doubt.

But they were dealing with it.

They loved each other and that came first. Always.

Clint loved these quiet moments with Bucky. They didn't happen very often. In their line of work they were lucky to get them at all. But it was the only time he felt really, truly peaceful. With the weird combination of flesh and metal wrapped around him. Listening to Bucky's heartbeat and the gears shifting in the metal arm. Two things that seemed out of place together, but were as much a part of the Bucky that Clint loved as his doubt and his rage, his sense of humor and his teasing. Clint loved all of it.

It was in these moments that Clint wondered what it would be like to take Bucky and leave it all behind. Leave the fighting and the constant trouble. Only tell Steve and Nat where they were going. Sounded like heaven.

But he also knew they'd never really be happy that way.

They'd both spent too much time in this type of life, with this type of danger, and this type of adrenaline to ever be able to do without it. Still, the quiet moments made him wish.

He felt Bucky's chest rumbling under his head. He hadn't realized the other man was awake.

Sitting up a bit so he could see Bucky's face, Clint pointed to his ear to indicate that he had removed his hearing aids while Bucky had been asleep and hadn’t heard whatever Bucky just said.

Bucky pulled his arms from around Clint and repeated himself with his lips and his hands.

"We should get married," they said.

Clint's mouth dropped open. Bucky's sign language had improved vastly over the last year. Even his metal hand didn't move nearly as awkwardly through the signals as it used to.  
Still, Clint figured he had to have gotten the signs wrong. And obviously he had misread his lips. There was no way he had seen what he thought he saw.

Clint held up one finger as he reached over to grab his aids off the bedside table where he had left them not that long ago.

Once they were back in place, he asked, "Could you please repeat what you just said. Or what you think you just said. Please."

Bucky grinned lazily and brought his hand to rest on Clint's cheek.

"We should get married," he said clearly, happily, sincerely.

"That's what I thought you said," Clint replied, completely at a loss. He'd be lying if he said that thought hadn't crossed his mind. He had just assumed that it wasn't something Bucky was thinking about because Bucky never seemed to think of things in a long term way.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him and let his thumb brush across Clint's cheekbone, the one that was scarred from the burns. "Unless you don't want to."

"That's definitely not what I said." Clint's mind came back to himself a bit as he began to process that they were actually having this conversation. "I'm just surprised. I didn't know you wanted to."

Bucky grinned again. "I'm a traditional fella. Figured it was time I make an honest man outta you."

He punctuated the sentence by pulling Clint's lips down to his own in a fierce kiss.

"Yes," Clint murmured against his lips.

Bucky's hand on his waist pulled him closer as his tongue pushed its way into Clint's mouth.

"Yes," Clint whispered as Bucky's tongue trailed down his neck.

He placed his scarred hand on Bucky's cheek now and tilted his boyfr…fiancé’s head back up so blue eyes met brown. Bucky's hands ghosted up Clint's body until they were cupping his face gently, pulling him down so their foreheads were pushed against each other.

"Yes, let's get married," Clint said.  
  
Three months later  


Bucky woke up laying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head, and the feeling of his fiancé's skin against his back. The rough, calloused, scarred hands that matched that skin running up his sides along with lips that were unbearably soft and tender against his neck.

"Time to wake up, sugar," Clint whispered in his ear.

Bucky grinned and turned his head so Clint could see his lips if he didn't have his hearing aids in, but didn't open his eyes.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," he said.

Teeth sunk into his flesh shoulder sharply without warning causing him to flip over quickly and howl in indignation. His eyes opened at the sudden pain and he glared up at Clint who was still laying on top of him.

"Wake the fuck up, asshole," Clint growled, annoyance and excited glee warring on his face.

Bucky grabbed onto his side tightly and flipped them over so he was pushing Clint back into the mattress before saying, "That’s no way to speak to a groom on his wedding day."

"Stop calling me a fucking bride, then," Clint responded, annoyance winning out on his face for a moment. But there was an amused glint in his eye.

"You're the one walking down the aisle, ain't'cha?" Bucky teased, letting his lips hover just above Clint's, brushing against them as he spoke.

"Hell yes, I am," Clint growled before leaning up to close the small distance Bucky had left between their lips. Clint's tongue dove into Bucky's mouth unreservedly as his hands roamed over Bucky's body.

When Clint pulled back for air, Bucky trailed his lips along his fiancé's jaw and then down the scarred side of his neck, sucking on the pulse point when he found it and scraping his teeth across the tough skin.

"My apologies, sirs," JARVIS said suddenly. "But Agent Romanoff is at the door and says if Agent Barton does not join her in the next five minutes, she will enter the bedroom."

Clint groaned, but Bucky just grinned against his neck, coming back up to claim Clint's lips and definitely not moving off of him so he could get up. The archer gave in for a moment, allowing Bucky to kiss him before turning his head away and saying, "She’s not joking, Buck. She really will come in here."

Undeterred, Bucky pulled Clint's earlobe into his mouth with his teeth and nibbled lightly.

"Fuck," Clint moaned helplessly. Bucky knew all the ways to distract him by now.  
Before Bucky could move on to those other ways of convincing him to stay in bed, Clint flipped them so he was straddling Bucky. He kissed Bucky lightly on the lips before climbing off, much to Bucky's disappointment.

Before he could get away, Bucky grabbed onto Clint's wrist, tapping it twice with two fingers, and then pressing his lips to it while looking up at his fiancé through his eyelashes.

Clint shook his head at Bucky's antics, but was grinning happily.

"We'll have plenty of time for all of that tonight," Clint said, his eyes growing darker in anticipation at the thought. Then he glanced at the clock. "You have to meet Steve soon anyway."

Bucky released him and watched him dress quickly, admiring the way his lean body moved and stretched as he pulled on the clothes, and started counting down the minutes until he could get Clint alone again. Luckily, Stark's wedding present was an all-expenses paid trip to a remote, relaxing beach in Fiji that came highly recommended by Banner. They were going to have two weeks of just them. No team meetings or bad guys to fight or any of the usual crap.

Clint left after turning to wink at him and blow him a kiss in an exaggerated, ridiculous way that made Bucky laugh. Once he was gone, Bucky sighed and rolled out of bed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Bucky really didn't care about all the details of the wedding as long as he got to be with Clint at the end of it, but when Pepper and Sam had gotten wind of their plans to go to the courthouse one weekend... Well, things snowballed pretty quickly.

The ceremony was on the roof of Avengers tower just as the sun began to set. Coulson, who for whatever reason was already ordained, officiated the ceremony which Bucky appreciated because that meant there would be no long winded speeches about true love or any other usual wedding bullshit.

Steve had cried when Bucky asked him to be his best man. Clint never technically asked Natasha to stand with him. Everyone just assumed that she would, and she did.

Despite Bucky's worries when Sam and Pepper took over the planning, it was really nice. Nothing over the top. No ridiculous decorations or huge, gaudy flower arrangements. Just their team and the other usuals and a few of Coulson's people were invited.

Definitely no press. No one wanted it to become a PR moment. Bucky and Clint would’ve put an end to the whole if they had gotten the impression it was turning into some big show. Bucky had been surprised when Pepper turned out to be just as adamant as he was about not letting the press in.

Even with Coulson's impressive time management, the ceremony felt entirely too long in Bucky's opinion. But everything slowed down when Coulson said, "You may now kiss the br...groom."

The unflappable director of SHIELD blushed, clearly embarrassed at his almost flub with the traditional line.

Bucky's grin broadened and turned a bit cheeky as he used Clint's hand in his to pull the archer closer and said, "it’s okay, Coulson. You can call Clint the bride."

Clint did not look amused, but Bucky quickly distracted him by wrapping one arm tightly around his waist and rubbing their noses together before whispering so only Clint could hear, "but from now on, I'm going to call you husband."

"As long as you don't call me your fucking wife," Clint shot back, but he was smiling now and punctuated the sentence by closing the distance between their lips.

A loud cheer sounded from the group watching, and Bucky couldn't help but smile into the kiss as he felt Clint tap his wrist gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's really it now.  
> Story over.  
> I'm sure I'll be writing more WinterHawk in the future because I honestly can't get enough of these two. If you like my writing, please check my author page and read my other MCU/AoS fics (though I only recently joined AO3 and don't have much up yet, but more is coming!)  
> Thanks for reading!


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